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Suddenly a boy appear'd beside me,Saying "Friend, what meanest thou by gazingOn the vacant pall with such composure?Hast thou lost for evermore all pleasureBoth in painting cunningly, and forming?"On the child I gazed, and thought in secret:"Would the boy pretend to be a master?"

1815.-----ALL kinds of men, both small and great,A fine-spun web delight to create,And in the middle they take their place,And wield their scissors with wondrous grace.But if a besom should sweep that way:"What a most shameful thing," they say,--"They've crush'd a mighty palace to-day."

And swift and swift, in wondrous guise,