stomach sorely vexed, Turning it completely over; Many a hat put on awry, Many a lamb chased cruelly, Made streets, houses, edges, trees, Dance around us fools with ease. Therefore thou are not in clover, Therefore thou, like other folk, Hast thy head filled full of smoke, Therefore thou, too, art perplexed, And thy stomach's sorely vexed, For 'tis turned completely over; Therefore thou art not in clover. Twirl him! twirl him! blind and dumb Deaf and dumb, Twirl the carle so troublesome! Seest thou how our tongues and wits Thou hast shivered into bits—     Seest thou this, licentious wight? How we're fastened to a string,    Whirled around in giddy ring, Making all like night appear, Filling with strange sounds our ear? Learn it in the stocks aright! When our ears wild noises shook, On the sky we cast no look, Neither stock nor stone reviewed, But were punished as we stood. Seest thou now, licentious wight? That, to us, yon flaring sun Is the Heidelbergers' tun; Castles, mountains, trees, and towers, Seem like chopin-cups of ours. Learn'st thou now, licentious wight? Learn it in the stocks aright! Twirl him! twirl him! blind and dumb, Deaf and dumb, Twirl the carle so troublesome! Kinsman, once so full of glee, Kinsman, where's thy drollery,     Where thy tricks, thou cunning one? All thy tricks are spent and past, To the devil gone at last Like a silly fop thou'lt prate, Like a washerwoman rate. Thou art but a simpleton. Now thou mayest—more shame to thee—    Run away, because of me; Cupid, that young rogue, may glory Learning wisdom from thy story; Haste, thou sluggard, hence to flee As from glass is cut our wit, So, like lightning, 'twill be split; If thou won't be chased away, Let each folly also stay Seest my meaning? Think of me! Idle one, away with thee! 

            SPINOSA. A mighty oak here ruined lies, Its top was wont to kiss the skies, Why is it now o'erthrown?—    The peasants needed, so they said, Its wood wherewith to build a shed, And so they've cut it down. 

            TO THE FATES. Not in the crowd of masqueraders gay, Where coxcombs' wit with wondrous splendor flares, And, easier than the Indian's net the prey, The virtue of young beauties snares;—     Not at the toilet-table of the fair, Where vanity, as if before an idol, bows, And often breathes a warmer prayer Than when to heaven it pays its vows; And not behind the curtain's cunning veil, Where the world's eye is hid by cheating night, And 

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