We've lots of playthings too, for sages.
For reasoners, here's a juggler's cup,
That fullest seems when nothing's in it;
And nine pins set, like systems, up,
To be knock'd down the following minute.
Who'll buy?—'tis Folly's shop, who'll buy?
Gay caps we here of foolscap make,
For bards to wear in dog-day weather;
Or bards the bells alone may take,
And leave to wits the cap and feather,