The Works of John Hall-Stevenson ... Corrected and Enlarged. With Several Original Poems, Now First Printed, and Explanatory Notes. In Three Volumes |
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 | The Works of John Hall-Stevenson |  |
131
FABLE XXIV. THE MOLE.
With intellects by nature muddy,A Mole kept moiling under ground,
Liv'd like Dun Scotus, in his study,
And got the name of The Profound.
At length by labouring and boring,
Amongst the blind and the benighted,
And by continually poring,
He was accounted second-sighted,
Thoroughly vers'd in every part
And mystery of the black-art.
In short, the studies of the blind
Are always of the occult kind.
As clear as you can see at noon
He saw, according to report,
What folks were doing in the Moon
And were undoing about Court.
Such was the Doctor's great renown,
All kinds of people, young and old,
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Eager to have their fortunes told.
His mother, a discreet old dame,
Knew well the genius of the youth;
She was not such a dupe to Fame
To take all her reports for truth.
Down she descends, without a rap,
And finds him about half awake,
Just in that studious kind of nap
That your great students often take.
Mother, said he, by all that's bright,
I saw you tripping o'er the plain;
What a fine thing is second-sight,
A fine illuminated brain;
I knew you, mother, well enough;
I heard your step an hour ago,
And smelt the fragrance of your ruff,
As I was studying below.
That you, said she, were always blind,
Was not a point that wanted clearing;
But now, alas! I also find,
You've neither feeling, smell, nor hearing.
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I prov'd, to cure you of your folly,
You could not judge, by your own eyes,
Between a Thistle and a Holly.
But when you talk of second-sight,
Let your internal light so shine,
That not one soul shall by that light
Find out a meaning or design.
Therefore, to keep your reputation,
Few words are best, my learned son;
Avoid all kind of conversation—
If you converse you are undone.
They may consult you, if they will,
But always keep in the same walk,
Keep studying and conjuring still,
Let all your talk be conjuring talk.
For few folks pay, with a good grace,
For any thing they understand;
Nonsense is quite another case,
'Tis the best trade throughout the land:
Else how should doctors fare so well,
And other trades that I could tell?
| The Works of John Hall-Stevenson | |