Poems on Affairs of State | ||
A SIMILE.
Dear Thomas, didst thou never popThy Head into a Tinman's Shop?
There, Thomas, didst thou never see
('Tis but by way of Simile)
A Squirrel spend his little Rage,
In jumping round a rouling Cage?
The Cage, as either side turn'd up,
Striking a Ring of Bells a top—;
Mov'd in the Orb, pleas'd with the Chimes,
The foolish Creature thinks he climbs:
But here or there, turn Wood or Wire,
He never gets two Inches higher.
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That frisk it under Pindus Shades,
In noble Songs and lofty Odes,
They tread on Stars, and talk with Gods:
Still dancing in an airy round,
Still pleas'd with their own Verses sound:
Brought back, how fast so e'er they go,
Always aspiring, always low.
Poems on Affairs of State | ||