text:  Or if to wit a coxcomb make pretence Guard the sure barrier between that and sense; Or quite unravel all the reas'ning thread And hang some curious cobweb in its stead! As forc'd from wind-guns lead itself can fly And pond'rous slugs cut swiftly through the sky; As clocks to weight their nimble motion owe The wheels above urg'd by the load below; Me Emptiness and Dulness could inspire And were my elasticity and fire