The trenchant blade, Toledo trusty,
For want of fighting was grown rusty,
And ate into itself, for lack
Of somebody to hew and hack.
Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 359.
For rhyme the rudder is of verses,
With which, like ships, they steer their courses.
Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 463.
He ne'er consider'd it, as loth
To look a gift-horse in the mouth.[211:1]