347
Tixall Poetry.
In hands, feet, nose—fancy makes him
Bigger by far in every limb.
Bigger by far in every limb.
Another wasteful humour straight
Brings him down to a half ounce weight,
Then, like some bird, (a pretty folly!)
Flies aloft, wing'd with melancholy!
He's air, or some thin exhalation
Next degree to annihilation.
Brings him down to a half ounce weight,
Then, like some bird, (a pretty folly!)
Flies aloft, wing'd with melancholy!
He's air, or some thin exhalation
Next degree to annihilation.
'Tis thraldom, freedom, 'tis express
Good company, and loneliness;
It laughs, and cries, all in one breath;
'Tis wealth or want, 'tis life or death.
A Bedlam-trance, 'tis what you will,
'Tis as you'd have it, well or ill.
A fickle contradicting mood,
Arising from distempered blood.
Good company, and loneliness;
It laughs, and cries, all in one breath;
'Tis wealth or want, 'tis life or death.
A Bedlam-trance, 'tis what you will,
'Tis as you'd have it, well or ill.
A fickle contradicting mood,
Arising from distempered blood.
Stand off, physician I 'tis, I'm sure,
As a disease, so its own cure.
As a disease, so its own cure.
