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Song LXXXII., p.334.

[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. 

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