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And when imprison'd Air escap'd her,
T been the Theme of such a Song.
And nigh an Ancient Obelisk
Bless us, quoth he! What dreadful Wonder Is that appears in Heaven yonder? A Comet, and without a Beard, Or Star that ne'er before appear'd ? I'm certain 'tis not in the Scroml Of all those Beasts, and Fish, and Fowi, With which, like Indian Plantations, The Learned stock the Constellations z Nor those that drawn for Signs have been, To th' Houses where the Planets Inn. It must be supernatural, Unless it be the Cannon-Ball, That shot i' th’Air point-blank upright, Was born to that prodigious height, That learn’d Philosophers maintain, It ne'er came backwards down again; But in the Airy Region yet Hangs like the Body of Mahomet: For if it be above the Shade, That by the Earth’s round bulk is made, 'Tis probable it may from far Appear no Bullet, but a Star.
This faid, he to his Engine flew, Plac'd near at hand in open view, And rais'd it till it levelld right, Against the Glow-worm Tail of Kite. Then peeping through (Bless us, quoth he) It is a Planet now I fee; And if I err'not, by his proper Figure, that's like Tobacco-stopper, It should be Saturn ; yes, 'tis clear 'Tis Saturn ; But what makes him there? He's got between the Dragon's Tail, And farther Leg behind o’th'Whale ; Pray Heaven divert the fatal Omen, For 'tis a Prodigy not common ; And can no less than the World's end, Or Nature's Funeral portend. With that he fell again to pry, Through Perspective more wistfully, When by mischance the fatal ftring That kept the Towring-Fowl on wing,