In that same plain a nymph, of curious taste,
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A cottage (plann'd with all her skill) had placed;
Strange the materials, and for what design'd
The various parts, no simple man might find;
What seem'd the door, each entering guest withstood,
What seem'd a window was but painted wood;
But by a secret spring the wall would move,
And day-light drop through glassy door above.
'Twas all her pride, new traps for praise to lay,