Dr. Major and Dr. Minor

NOT too scrupulous nor wise,
Oliver Goldsmith told white lies.
Oliver Goldsmith, born a poet,
Told a fib so you’d never know it;
Owned a lie and called it a feather
Tossed in the air. “No matter whether
It floats or finds a trustful head,
Nobody’s hurt,” Or. Goldsmith said.

Dr. Johnson began to stir.
Dr. Johnson exploded, “Sir!”
User of truth as if on oath,
Samuel, honest enough for both,
Rolled in his chair, began to mutter.
Nobody knew what wrath he’d utter!
“Go,” said he (but his voice Was mellow),
“Molt your feathers” to the silly fellow.