Beneath a cumbrous frock, that to the knees
Invests the thriving churl, his legs appear,
Fellows to those that[775] lustily upheld
The wooden stools for everlasting use,
Whereon[776] our fathers sate. And mark his brow!
Under whose shaggy canopy are set
Two eyes—not dim, but of a healthy[777] stare—
Wide, sluggish, blank, and ignorant, and strange—
Proclaiming boldly that they never drew
A look or motion of intelligence