102
The Hind and the Panther.
But, least of all Philosophy presumes
Of truth in dreams, from melancholy fumes:
Perhaps the Martyn hous'd in holy ground,
Might think of Ghosts that walk their midnight round,
Till grosser atoms tumbling in the stream
Of fancy, madly met and clubb'd into a dream.
As little weight his vain presages bear,
Of ill effect to such alone who fear.
Most prophecies are of a piece with these,
Each Nostradamus can foretell with ease:
Not naming persons, and confounding times,
One casual truth supports a thousand lying rimes.
Of truth in dreams, from melancholy fumes:
Perhaps the Martyn hous'd in holy ground,
Might think of Ghosts that walk their midnight round,
Till grosser atoms tumbling in the stream
Of fancy, madly met and clubb'd into a dream.
As little weight his vain presages bear,
Of ill effect to such alone who fear.
Most prophecies are of a piece with these,
Each Nostradamus can foretell with ease:
Not naming persons, and confounding times,
One casual truth supports a thousand lying rimes.
Th' advice was true, but fear had seiz'd the most,
And all good counsel is on cowards lost.
The question crudely put, to shun delay,
'Twas carry'd by the major part to stay.
And all good counsel is on cowards lost.
The question crudely put, to shun delay,
'Twas carry'd by the major part to stay.
His point thus gain'd, Sir Martyn dated thence
His pow'r, and from a Priest became a Prince.
His pow'r, and from a Priest became a Prince.
He
