the English Nation.
203
So charming Ointments make an old Witch fly,
And bear a crippled Carcaſs through the Sky.
'Tis this exalted Power, whoſe Buſineſs lies
In Nonſenſe and Impoſſibilities.
This made a whimſical Philoſopher,
Before the ſpacious World his Tub prefer;
And we have modern cloyſter'd Coxcombs, who
Retire to think, 'cauſe they have nought to do:
But thoughts are giv'n for Action's Government,
Where Action ceaſes, Thought's impertinent.
Whether theſe Ideas are true or falſe, 'tis certain they are expreſs'd with, an Energy and Fire which form the Poet. I ſhall be very far from attempting to examine philoſophically into theſe Verſes; to lay down the Pencil and take up the Rule and Compaſs on this Occaſion; my
only
