Classic Poem

The more a Wit, or Wise Man, you'd appear,
The more you prove, you but a Babler are,
The more your own self, you will only hear;
Men show more Sense, the less their own they prize,
And more than others Thoughts, their own despise,
Who hearing others, seem, nay, prove more wise;
Less by their Speaking, than their Hearing so,
At once their Judgment, both improve, and show,
And but more Wise still, as more Silent grow;
Since till you speak, none can know what you are,
Speak less, that Thee, Men but the more may hear,
Speak less, to make your Judgment more appear;
If that you wou'd be thought to have some Wit,
Your own False Judgment never take for it;
Which Men wou'd think more, as you thought it less,
Prov'd less, but by your own Conceitedness;
That all then may, your Sense for Just admit,
Leave off your thinking, your own Self a Wit;
Seem not o'erwise, to be thought otherwise;
For all true Wisdom, like true Friendship, is,
Render'd suspected, by Formality,
Deficient thought, for Self-sufficiency;
Stop thy Throat, not our Ears, with thy long Tongue,
Let Silence right thy Sense, thy Speech wou'd wrong;
When Sense is lessen'd, as Words multiply,
Silence then proves most Ingenuity;
But you, crack'd Sculls, like broken Merchants, will
Support, by vain Words, your crack'd Credit still,
Maintain your Fame of Self-sufficiency,
By Boasts, which are your Wants Discovery,
To lose your Credit by your Vanity;
Speak not so much, to be well-spoken of,
Let Silence be thy Wit's, and Judgment's Proof;
And hold thy Tongue, thy Weakness not to show,
Crack'd Sculls, like crack'd Bells, by their Tongues we know.