The Distressed Poet | ||
What multitudes would have been staring,
To see these Folks set out their Airing,
Had but the How and When been known
To half the Idlers of the Town!
The Houses' tops, each Church and Steeple,
Stuck round with eyes, had swarm'd with people:
But quite conceal'd from public view,
Incog, their Highnesses withdrew,
An ambient cloud their persons coated,
And silent through the air they floated.
To see these Folks set out their Airing,
Had but the How and When been known
To half the Idlers of the Town!
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Stuck round with eyes, had swarm'd with people:
But quite conceal'd from public view,
Incog, their Highnesses withdrew,
An ambient cloud their persons coated,
And silent through the air they floated.
The Distressed Poet | ||