An Inventory of the Furniture in Dr. Priestley's Study

A map of every country known, With not a foot of land his own. A list of folks that kicked a dust On this poor globe, from Ptol. the First; He hopes,&mdash;indeed it is but fair,&mdash; Some day to get a corner there. A group of all the British kings, Fair emblem! on a packthread swings. The Fathers, ranged in goodly row, A decent, venerable show, Writ a great while ago, they tell us, And many an inch o'ertop their fellows. A Juvenal to hunt for mottos; And Ovid's tales of nymphs and grottos. The meek-robed lawyers, all in white; Pure as the lamb,&mdash;at least, to sight. A shelf of bottles, jar and phial, By which the rogues he can defy all,&mdash; All filled with lightning keen and genuine, And many a little imp he'll pen you in Which, like Le Sage's sprite, let out, Among the neighbours makes a rout; Brings down the lightning on their houses, And kills their geese, and frights their spouses. A rare thermometer, by which He settles, to the nicest pitch, The just degrees of heat, to raise Sermons, or politics, or plays. Papers and books, a strange mixed olio, From shilling touch to pompous folio; Answer, remark, reply, rejoinder, Fresh from the mint, all stamped and coined here; Like new-made glass, set by to cool, Before it bears the workman's tool. A blotted proof-sheet, wet from Bowling. &mdash;"How can a man his anger hold in?"&mdash; Forgotten times, and college themes, Worm-eaten plans, and embryo schemes;&mdash; A mass of heterogeneous matter, A chaos dark, nor land nor water;&mdash; New books, like new-born infants, stand, Waiting the printer's clothing hand;&mdash; Others, a motley ragged brood, Their limbs unfashioned all, and rude, Like Cadmus' half-formed men appear; One rears a helm, one lifts a spear, And feet were lopped and fingers torn Before their fellow limbs were born; A leg began to kick and sprawl Before the head was seen at all, Which quiet as a mushroom lay Till crumbling hillocks gave it way; And all, like controversial writing, Were born with teeth, and sprung up fighting. "But what is this," I hear you cry, "Which saucily provokes my eye?"&mdash; A think unknown, without a name, Born of the air and doomed to flame.