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Within the chambers which this dome contains, In all her frantic forms Distraction reigns, For when the sense from various objects brings, Through organs craz'd, the images of things; Ideas, all extravagant and vain, In endless swarms, crowd in upon the brain; The cheated reason true and false confounds, And forms her notions from fantastic grounds. Then if the blood impetuous swells the veins, And choler in the constitution reigns, Outrageous fury strait inflames the soul, Quick beats the pulse, and fierce the eye-balls roll; Rattling his chains, the wretch all raving lies, And roars and foams, and earth and heaven defies. Not so, when gloomy the black bile prevails, And lumpish phlegm the thicken'd mass congeals: All lifeless then is the poor patient found, Aad sits for ever moping on the ground ! His active pow'rs their uses all forego, Nor senses, tongue, nor limbs, their function know: In melancholy lost, the vital flame Informs, and just informs the listless frame. If brisk the circulating tides advance, And nimble spirits through the fibres dance, Then all the images delightful rise, The tickled fancy sparkles through the eyes: The mortal, all to mirth and joy resign’d, In ev'ry gesture shews his freakish mind;
Frolic and free, he laughs at fortune's pow'r,
Now ent'ring in, my Muse, thy theme pursue, And all the dome, and each apartment view.
Within this lonely lodge, in solemn port, A shiv'ring monarch keeps his awful court; And far and wide, as boundless thought can stray, Extends a vast imaginary sway. Utopian princes bow before his throne, Lands unexisting his dominion own, And airy realms, and regions in the moon. The pride of dignity, the pomp of state, The darling glories of the envy'd great, Rise to his view, and in his fancy swell, And guards and courtiers crowd his empty cell. See how he walks majestic through the throng; (Behind he trails his tatter'd robes along) And cheaply blest, and innocently vain, Enjoys the dear delusion of his brain; In this small spot expatiates unconfin’d, Supreme of monarchs, first of human kind.
Such joyful ecstasy as this possest,
With all his glories in their utmost height,
Whilst shouts on shouts from gather'd nations rise,
Poor Cloe--whom yon little cell contains, Of broken vows and faithless man complains; Her heaving bosom speaks her inward woe; Her tears in melancholy silence flow. Yet still her fond desires tumultuous rise, Melt her sad soul, and languish in her eyes, And form her wild ideas as they rove, To all the tender images of love; And still she soothes and feeds the flatt'ring pain, False as he is, still, still she loves her swain;
To hopeless passion yields her heart a prey:
So mourns th' imprison'd lark his hapless fate, In love's soft season ravish'd from his mate; Fondly fatigues his unavailing rage, And hops and Autters round and round his cage; And moans and droops, with pining grief opprest, Whilst sweet complainings warble from his breast.
Lo! here a wretch to avarice resign'd, Midst gather'd scraps, and shreds, and rags, con
find; His riches these- -for these he rakes and spares, These rack his bosom, these engross
cares; O'er these he broods, for ever void of rest, And hugs the sneaking passion of his breast. See, from himself the sordid niggard steals, Reserves large scantlings from his slender meals; Scarce to his bowels half their due affords, And starves his carcase to increase his hoards; Till to huge heaps the treasur'd offals swell, And stink in ev'ry corner of his cell. And thus, with wondrous wisdom, he purveys Against contingent want and rainy days, And scorns the fools that dread not to be poor, But eat their morsel, and enjoy their store.
Behold a sage! immers’d in thought profound; For science he, for various skill renown'd. At no mean ends his speculation aim, (Vile pelf he scorns, nor covets empty fame) The public good, the welfare of mankind, Employ th’ gen'rous labour of his mind. For this his rich imagination teems With rare inventions and important schemes ; All day his close attention he applies, Nor gives he midnight slumbers to his eyes ; Content of this, his toilsome studies crown, And for the world's repose neglects his own. All nature's secret causes he explores, The laws of motion, and mechanic pow'rs; Hence ev'n the elements his art obey, O'er earth, o'er fire, he spreads his wond'rous
sway, And thro' the liquid sky, and o'er the wat'ry way. Hence ever pregnant with some vast design, He drains the moor-land, or he sinks the mine, Or levels lofty mountains to the plain, Or stops the roaring torrents of the main; Forc'd up by fire, he bids the water rise, And points its course reverted to the skies, His ready fancy still supplies the means, Forces his tools, and fixes his machines,