Be shipwrecked there! Now in the South of China,A certain city's numerous populationBoth male and female, though they use the gaitThat commonly is used in Paul's Church-Yard,Appear to strangers walking on their heads,Inverted. O, but one of many marvels.Blest be the Globe! O that the Lord would grant meBefore I die a journey into Denmark,There to survey the famous Globes in Gottorp,And honour Tycho Brahe. But less cheerlyWould I in New Castile draw near that LakeWhich in presentiment of hurricanoesRaves at the sky, and howls man on to doom.These truths surpass all fiction; yet truth bidsI should not daub where she herself is plain.You have heard high legends of the Elysian Fields,The poets' vaunted theme; but, in the fa&,They ate an ordinary plot of ground,Where higglers tie the goat or panniered ass,Near Naples. I must, in parenthesis,Observe, that the opening mind's credulityStands in much danger from these plaguy poets.Avoid their siren song, boys; learn betimesTo shun the glittering counterfeit of rhymes.
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