Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/347

 209 ������And when into his raving Fit he falls, �'Twou'd move at once your Pity, and your Mirth, �To hear him, as you will do soon, Declaring, there's a Kingdom in the Moon; �And that each Star, for ought he knows, �May some Inhabitants enclose: Philosophers, he says, may there abound, Such Jugglers as himself be in them found; Which if there be, the World may well turn round; 40 �At least to those, whose Whimsies are so strange, �That, whilst they're fixt to one peculiar Place, �Pretend to measure far extended Space, �And 'mongst the Planets range. �Behold him now contemplating that Head, From which long-since both Flesh, and Brains are fled ; Questioning, if that empty, hollow Bowl Did not ere while contain the Human Soul: Then starts a Doubt, if 't were not to the Heart That Nature rather did that Gift impart. 50 �Good Sir, employ the utmost of your Skill, To make him Wiser, tho' against his Will; Who thinks, that he already All exceeds, And laughs at our most solemn Words and Deeds: Tho' once amongst us he wou'd try a Cause, �And Bus'ness of the Town discuss, �Knowing as well as one of us, The Price of Corn, and standing Market-Laws; �Wou'd bear an Office in his Turn, �For which good Purposes all Men were born; 60 �Not to be making Circles in the Sand, And scaling Heav'n, till they have sold their Land; Or, when unstock'd below their Pasture lies, To find out Bulls and Rams, amidst the Skies. From these Mistakes his Madness we conclude; ��� �