A Collection Of Poems | ||
Verses Wrote Extempore in the first Leaf of Euclid's Elements.
Let Souls that in a lower Circle move,What they affirm with nice Exactness prove;
What plodding Euclid says let others hear,
The Soul Poetick knows a higher Sphere.
Beauty in all its various Forms can view,
Nor Demonstration needs to prove it true;
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With higher Joy, with more delighted Eyes,
Than he, who by his dull mechanic Trade,
Squar'd ev'ry Stone, and each in order laid.
I Envy not the Man whose skill can show,
If conically true the Firr-Trees grow;
Who from a gay Parterre no Joy receives,
But what the Box in Angles rising gives:
Who looks on Paint with Geometrick Eyes,
And nought, but well rang'd perspective, can prize.
If that be wanting, Raphael he'll disdain,
And Michael Frowns, and Psyche Smiles in vain.
A Collection Of Poems | ||