Are now transformed to wild Red Lions,[44]
As round our prey we ramp and rave.
Thus, by a swift metamorphōsis,
Wisdom turns wit, and science joke,
Nonsense is incense to our noses,
For when Red Lions speak they smoke.
Hail, Nonsense! dry nurse of Red Lions,[45]
From thee the wise their wisdom learn;
From thee they cull those truths of science,
Which into thee again they turn.