Dialogue 1

Had the Pellæan Chief thy Form but view'd,With far more Haste he had the World subdu'd:Proud at thy Feet to lay the mighty Ball,Whose Eyes were form'd to triumph over all;And then most justly had he Wept to see,One World too mean an Offering for Thee!

What her Diameter to an Inch is,And prov'd she was not made of green Cheese.

Two Poles turn round the Globe, one seen to riseO'er Scythian Hills, and one in Lybian Skies;The first sublime in Heav'n, the last is whirl'dBelow the Regions of the nether World;Around our Poles the spiry Dragon glides,And like a wandring Stream the Bears divides,The Less and Greater, who by Fate's DecreesAbhor to dive beneath the Southern Seas;There, as they say, perpetual Night is found,In Silence brooding on th'unhappy Ground:Or when Aurora leaves our Northern Sphere,She lights the downward Heav'n, and rises there,And when on us she breaths the living Light,Red Vesper kindles there the Tapers of the Night.Dryden's Virgil.

Firmly believ'd great States depend,Upon the Tip of th' Bears Tail's End,That as she whisk'd it tow'rds the Sun,Strow'd mighty Empires up and down.

To us the joys of Place and BirthAre the chief Paradise on Earth:A Privilege so sacred heldThat none will to their Mothers yield,But rather than not go before,Will forfeit Heaven at the Door.

So when the Needle hath been once drawn o'erThe Loadstone's Poles, and felt its wondrous Power,'Twill e'en in Absence keep its Truth and Worth,And always point tow'rds its beloved North:But when it once the Magnet's Preference gains,With Joy it trembles and the dear Object joyns.

'Tis not among that mighty Scrowl,Of Birds, and Beasts, and Fish, and Fowl,With which like Indian PlantationsThe Learned Stock the Constellations.

Nor those that drawn from Signs have been,The Houses where the Planets inn.

Doubtless the Pleasure is as great,Of being cheated, as to cheat;As those receive the most DelightWho least perceive a Jugler's Slight;And still the less they understand,The more admire the Slight of Hand.

There Vice did in it Zenith reign,Our bright Meridian Sun decline, &c.

Five girdles bind the Skies: The Torrid ZoneGlows with the passing and repassing Sun;Far on the Right and Left the Extreams of Heaven,To Frosts and Snows, and bitter Blasts are given;Betwixt the midst and these the Gods assign'dTwo Habitable seats for human Kind;And cross their Limits cut a sloping Way,Which the twelve Signs in beauteous Order sway:And as five Zones the Ætherial Regions bind,Five correspondent are to Earth assign'd;The Sun with Rays directly darting down,Fires all beneath and frys the middle Zone:The two beneath the distant Poles, complainOf endless Winters and perpetual Rain:Betwixt the Extreams two happier Climates hold,The Temper that partakes of Hot and Cold.

Mercury, nearest to the Central Sun,Doth in his oval Orbit circling run;But rarely is the Object of our SightIn Solar Glory sunk, and more prevailing Light.

When with the Stars we'll be familiar,As e'er was the Almanack Well-willer.