Page:The Dunciad - Alexander Pope (1743).djvu/138

Book II. Then sighing, thus, "And am I now three-score? "Ah why, ye Gods! should two and two make four?" He said, and clim'd a stranded lighter's height, Shot to the black abyss, and plung'd down-right. The Senior's judgment all the crowd admire, Who but to sink the deeper, rose the higher. Next Smedley div'd; slow circles dimpled o'er, The quaking mud, that clos'd, and op'd no more.