The  was meager, flimsy, void of strength,
But Nature kindly had made up in length,
What She in breadth denied; Erect and proud,
A head and shoulders taller than the croud,
He deem'd them pygmies all; loose hung his skin
O'er his bare bones; his Face so very thin,
So very narrow, and so much beat out,
That Physiognomists have made a doubt,
Proportion lost, Expression quite forgot,
Whether It could be call'd a face, or not;
At end of it howe'er, unbless'd with beard,
Some twenty fathom length of chin appear'd;
With Legs, which we might well conceive that Fate
Meant only to support a spider's weight,
Firmly he strove to tread, and with a stride
Which shew'd at once his weakness and his pride,
Shaking himself to pieces, seem'd to cry,
Observe good People, how I shake the sky.