The moon, deliver'd from her pain,
Displays her silver face again.
Note here, that in the chemick style,
The moon is silver all this while.
So (if my simile you minded,
Which I confess is too longwinded)
When late a feminine magician[1],
Join'd with a brazen politician,
Expos'd to blind the nation's eyes,
A parchment[2] of prodigious size;
Conceal'd behind that ample screen,
There was no silver to be seen.
But to this parchment let the Drapier
Oppose his countercharm of paper,
And ring Wood's copper in our ears
So loud till all the nation hears;
That sound will make the parchment shrivel,
And drive the conjurers to the Devil:
And when the sky is grown serene,
Our silver will appear again.
WOOD AN INSECT. 1725.
BY long observation I have understood,
That two little vermin are kin to Will Wood.
The first is an insect they call a wood-louse,
That folds up itself in itself for a house,
As round as a ball, without head, without tail,
Inclos'd cap à pié in a strong coat of mail.
