[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]
I’LL sail upon the dog star,
And then pursue the morning;
I’ll chase the moon till it be noon,
I’ll make her leave her horning,
–
I’ll climb the frosty mountain,
And there I’ll coin the weather;
I’ll tear the rainbow from the sky,
And ty both ends together:
–
The stars pluck from their orbs too,
And crowd them in my budget;
And whether I’m a roaring boy,
Let Gresham college judge it:
–
While I mount yon blew celum,
To shun the tempting gipsies;
Play at foot-ball with sun and moon,
And fright ye with eclipses.
