| Citation |
MJ.783.103
15 Jul 1783:41 (10/45 533)
A SIMILE
Dear Thomas, didst thou never pop
Thy head into a tin-man's shop!
There, Thomas, didst thou never see
('Tis but by way of simile.)
A squirrel send his little rage,
In jumping round a rolling cage?
Striking a ring of bells atop--?
. . . [4 lines]
So fares it with those merry blades,
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.
. . . [2 more lines]
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