Anna Laetitia Barbauld - An Inventory of the Furniture in Dr. Priestley's Study lyrics

A map of every country known, With not a foot to call his own. A list of folks that kicked a dust On this poor globe, from Ptol. the First; He hopes,- indeed it is but fair,- Some day to get a corner there. A group of all the British kings, Fair emblem! on a packthread swings. The Fathers, ranged in goodly row, A decent, venerable show, Writ a great while ago, they tell us, And many an inch o'ertop their fellows. A Juvenal to hunt for mottos; And Ovid's tales of nymphs and grottos. The meek-robed lawyers all in white; Pure as the lamb,- at least, to sight. A shelf of bottles, jar and phial, By which the rogues he can defy all,- All filled with lightning keen and genuine, And many a little imp he'll pen you in; Which, like Le Sage's sprite, let out, Among the neighbours makes a rout; Brings down the lightning on their houses, And k**s their geese, and frights their spouses. A rare thermometer, by which He settles, to the nicest pitch, The just degrees of heat, to raise Sermons, or politics, or plays. Papers and books, a strange mixed olio, From shilling touch to pompous folio; Answer, remark, reply, rejoinder, Fresh from the mint, all stamped and coined here; Like new-made gla**, set by to cool, Before it bears the workman's tool. A blotted proof-sheet, wet from Bowling. -'How can a man his anger hold in?'- Forgotten rimes, and college themes, Worm-eaten plans, and embryo schemes;- A ma** of heterogeneous matter, A chaos dark, no land nor water;- New books, like new-born infants, stand, Waiting the printer's clothing hand;- Others, a mottly ragged brood, Their limbs unfashioned all, and rude, Like Cadmus' half-formed men appear; One rears a helm, one lifts a spear, And feet were lopped and fingers torn Before their fellow limbs were born; A leg began to kick and sprawl Before the head was seen at all, Which quiet as a mushroom lay Till crumbling hillocks gave it way; And all, like controversial writing, Were born with teeth, and sprung up fighting. 'But what is this,' I hear you cry, 'Which saucily provokes my eye?'- A thing unknown, without a name, Born of the air and doomed to flame.