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ALM A:
MA':

OR, THE

PROGRESS

OF THE

MIND.

IN

THREE CANTO s.

Πάντα γέλως, και παντα κόνις, και πατα το μηδέν

Παντα γαρ ἐξ αλόγων τα εσι γιγνομενα.

Incert, ap. Stobaem.

THE

FIRST CANTO.

ATTHEW met Richard, when or where
From ftory is not mighty clear:

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Of many knotty points they spoke ;
And pro and con by turns they took.
Rats half the manufcript have eat:
Dire hunger which we ftill regret:
O! may they ne'er again digeft
The horrors of fo fad a feaft.

Yet lefs our grief, if what remains,
Dear Jacob, by thy care and pains
Shall be to future times convey'd.
It thus begins:

**** Here Matthew faid:

Alma in verfe; in profe, the Mind,
By Ariftotle's pen defin'd,

Throughout the body fquat or tall,
Is bona fide, all in all.

And yet, flap-dash, is all again
In ev'ry finew, nerve, and vein :
Runs here and there like Hamlet's ghoft;
While every where the rules the roast.

This System, Richard, we are told,
The men of Oxford firmly hold.
The Cambridge wits, you know, deny
With ipfe dixit to comply.

They fay (for in good truth they speak
With small respect of (that old Greek)
That putting all his words together,
'Tis three blue beans in one blue bladder.
Alma, they ftrenuously maintain,
Sits cock-horfe on her throne the brain;
And from that feat of thought dispenses
Her fov'reign pleasure to the fenfes.
Two optic nerves, they fay, fhe ties,
Like fpectacles, across the eyes;
By which the fpirits bring her word,
Whene'er the balls are fix'd, or stirr'd;
How quick at park and play they strike;
The Duke they court; the toaft they like
And at St. James's turn their grace
From former friends, now out of place.

Without these aids, to be more ferious, Her pow'r, they hold, had been precarious: The eyes might have confpir'd her ruin; And the not known, what they were doing. Foolish it had been, and unkind,

That they should fee, and fhe be blind.

Wife nature likewife, they fuppofe,
Has drawn two conduits down our nose;
Could Alma elfe with judgment tell,
When Cabbage ftinks, or Rofes fmell?
Or who would ask for her opinion
Between an Oyster and an Onion ?
For from most bodies, Dick, you know,
Some little bits afk leave to flow;
And, as through these canals they roll,

Bring up a fample of the whole.

Like footmen running before coaches,
To tell the inn, what lord approaches.
By nerves about our palate plac'd,
She likewife judges of the taste.

Elfe (difmal thought!) our warlike men
Might drink thick Port for fine Champagne;
And our ill-judging wives and daughters
Miftake small beer for Citron waters.
Hence too, that the might better hear,
She fets a drum at either ear;
And loud or gentle, harsh or fweet,
Are, but the Alarums which they beat.
Laft to enjoy her sense of feeling
{A thing she much delights to deal in) -
A thousand little nerves she sends
Quite to our toes' and fingers' ends;
And thefe in gratitude again
Return their fpirits to the brain;
In which their figure being printed
(As juft before, I think, I hinted)
Alma inform'd can try the cafe,
As fhe had been upon the place.

Thus, while the judge gives diff'rent journeys To country counfel, and attornies;

He on the bench in quiet fits,

Deciding, as they bring the writs.

The Pope thus prays and fleeps at Rome,

And very feldom ftirs from home;

Yet fending forth his holy fpies,

And having heard what they advise,
He rules the church's bleft dominions,
And fets men's faith by his opinions.
VOL. II.

D

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