Yet not by Fancy's witchcraft on the brain Are always the tumultuous passions driven To guilty deeds, nor Reason bound in chains That Vice alone may lord it. Oft, adorn'd With motley pageants, Folly mounts his throne, And plays her idiot antics, like a queen. A thousand garbs she wears: a thousand ways 490 She whirls her giddy empire. Lo, thus far With bold adventure to the Mantuan lyre I sing for contemplation link'd with love, A pensive theme. Now haply should my song Unbend that serious countenance, and learn Thalia's tripping gait, her shrill-toned voice, Her wiles familiar: whether scorn she darts In wanton ambush from her lip or eye, Or whether, with a sad disguise of care O'ermantling her gay brow, she acts in sport 500 The deeds of Folly, and from all sides round Calls forth impetuous Laughter's gay rebuke; Her province. But through every comic scene To lead my Muse with her light pencil arm'd; Through every swift occasion which the hand Of Laughter points at, when the mirthful sting Distends her labouring sides and chokes her tongue, Were endless as to sound each grating note With which the rooks, and chattering daws, and grave Unwieldy inmates of the village pond, 510 The changing seasons of the sky proclaim; Sun, cloud, or shower. Suffice it to have said, Where'er the power of Ridicule displays Her quaint-eyed visage, some incongruous form, Some stubborn dissonance of things combined, Strikes on her quick perception: whether Pomp, Or Praise, or Beauty be dragg'd in and shewn Where sordid fashions, where ignoble deeds, Where foul Deformity is wont to dwell; Or whether these with shrewd and wayward spite 520 Invade resplendent Pomp's imperious mien, The charms of Beauty, or the boast of Praise. Ask we for what fair end the Almighty Sire In mortal bosoms stirs this gay contempt, These grateful pangs of laughter; from disgust Educing pleasure? Wherefore, but to aid The tardy steps of Reason, and at once By this prompt impulse urge us to depress Wild Folly's aims? For, though the sober light Of Truth slow dawning on the watchful mind 530 At length unfolds, through many a subtle tie, How these uncouth disorders end at last In public evil; yet benignant Heaven, Conscious how dim the dawn of Truth appears To thousands, conscious what a scanty pause From labour and from care the wider lot Of humble life affords for studious thought To scan the maze of Nature, therefore stamp'd These glaring scenes with characters of scorn, As broad, as obvious to the passing clown 540 As to the letter'd sage's curious eye. But other evils o'er the steps of man Through all his walks impend; against whose might The slender darts of Laughter nought avail: A trivial warfare. Some, like cruel guards,