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What crowd is this? what have we here! we must
pass A Telescope upon its frame, and pointed to the sky: Long is it as a Barber's Pole, or Mast of little Boat, Some little Pleasure-skiff, that doth on Thames's
The Show-man chooses well his place, 'tis Leicester's
busy Square; And he's as happy in his night, for the heavens are
blue and fair ; Calm, though impatient, is the Crowd; each is ready
with the fee, And envies him that's looking - what an insight Yet, Show-man, where can lie the cause ? Shall
must it be!
thy Implement have blame, A Boaster, that when he is tried, fails, and is put
to shame? Or is it good as others are, and be their eyes in
fault ? Their eyes, or minds ? or, finally, is this resplendent
Is nothing of that radiant pomp so good as we have
here? Or gives a thing but small delight that never can
be dear? The silver Moon with all her Vales, and Hills of
mightiest fame, Do they betray us when they're seen ? and are they
but a name?
Or is it rather that Conceit rapacious is and strong, And bounty never yields so much but it seems to
do her wrong? Or is it, that when human Souls a journey long
have had, And are returned into themselves, they cannot but Or must we be constrained to think that these Spec
be sad ?
tators rude, Poor in estate, of manners base, men of the mul.
titude, Have souls which never yet have risen, and there.
fore prostrate lie? No, no, this cannot be
Men thirst for power and majesty!
Does, then, a deep and earnest thought the blissful
mind employ Of him who gazes, or has gazed ? a grave and
steady joy, That doth reject all shew of pride, admits no out
Because not of this noisy world, but silent and
Whatever be the cause, 'tis sure that they who pry
Seem to meet with little gain, seem less happy than
before : One after One they take their turns, nor have I one
espied That doth not slackly go away, as if dissatisfied.
THE HAUNTED TREE.
THOSE silver clouds collected round the sun
The noon-tide hour :- though truly some there are