| |
| IN melancholic fancy, | |
| Out of myself, | |
| In the vulcan dancy, | |
| All the world surveying, | |
| Nowhere staying, | 5 |
| Just like a fairy elf; | |
| Out o’er the tops of highest mountains skipping, | |
| Out o’er the hills, the trees and valleys tripping, | |
| Out o’er the ocean seas, without an oar or shipping. | |
| Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go? | 10 |
| |
| Amidst the misty vapors, | |
| Fain would I know | |
| What doth cause the tapers; | |
| Why the clouds benight us, | |
| And affright us | 15 |
| While we travel here below. | |
| Fain would I know what makes the roaring thunder, | |
| And what these lightnings be that rend the clouds asunder, | |
| And what these comets are on which we gaze and wonder. | |
| Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go? | 20 |
| |
| Fain would I know the reason | |
| Why the little ant, | |
| All the summer season, | |
| Layeth up provision, | |
| On condition | 25 |
| To know no winter’s want: | |
| And how these little fishes, that swim beneath salt water, | |
| Do never blind their eyes; methinks it is a matter | |
| An inch above the reach of old Erra Pater! | |
| Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go? | 30 |
| |
| Fain would I be resolved | |
| How things are done; | |
| And where the bull was calved | |
| Of bloody Phalaris, | |
| And where the tailor is | 35 |
| That works to the man i’ the moon! | |
| Fain would I know how Cupid aims so rightly; | |
| And how these little fairies do dance and leap so lightly; | |
| And where fair Cynthia makes her ambles nightly. | |
| Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go? | 40 |
| |
| In conceit like Phaeton, | |
| I ’ll mount Phœbus’ chair, | |
| Having ne’er a hat on, | |
| All my hair a-burning | |
| In my journeying, | 45 |
| Hurrying through the air. | |
| Fain would I hear his fiery horses neighing, | |
| And see how they on foamy bits are playing; | |
| All the stars and planets I will be surveying! | |
| Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go? | 50 |
| |
| O, from what ground of nature | |
| Doth the pelican, | |
| That self-devouring creature, | |
| Prove so froward | |
| And untoward, | 55 |
| Her vitals for to strain? | |
| And why the subtle fox, while in death’s wounds is lying, | |
| Doth not lament his pangs by howling and by crying; | |
| And why the milk-white swan doth sing when she ’s a-dying. | |
| Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go? | 60 |
| |
| Fain would I conclude this, | |
| At least make essay, | |
| What similitude is; | |
| Why fowls of a feather | |
| Flock and fly together, | 65 |
| And lambs know beasts of prey: | |
| How Nature’s alchymists, these small laborious creatures, | |
| Acknowledge still a prince in ordering their matters, | |
| And suffer none to live, who slothing lose their features. | |
| Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go? | 70 |
| |
| I ’m rapt with admiration, | |
| When I do ruminate, | |
| Men of an occupation, | |
| How each one calls him brother, | |
| Yet each envieth other, | 75 |
| And yet still intimate! | |
| Yea, I admire to see some natures farther sund’red, | |
| Than antipodes to us. Is it not to be wond’red? | |
| In myriads ye ’ll find, of one mind scarce a hundred? | |
| Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go? | 80 |
| |
| What multitude of notions | |
| Doth perturb my pate, | |
| Considering the motions, | |
| How the heavens are preserved, | |
| And this world served | 85 |
| In moisture, light, and heat! | |
| If one spirit sits the outmost circle turning, | |
| Or one turns another, continuing in journeying, | |
| If rapid circles’ motion be that which they call burning! | |
| Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go! | 90 |
| |
| Fain also would I prove this, | |
| By considering | |
| What that, which you call love, is: | |
| Whether it be a folly | |
| Or a melancholy, | 95 |
| Or some heroic thing! | |
| Fain I ’d have it proved, by one whom love hath wounded, | |
| And fully upon one his desire hath founded, | |
| Whom nothing else could please though the world were rounded. | |
| Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go? | 100 |
| |
| To know this world’s centre, | |
| Height, depth, breadth, and length, | |
| Fain would I adventure | |
| To search the hid attractions | |
| Of magnetic actions, | 105 |
| And adamantine strength. | |
| Fain would I know, if in some lofty mountain, | |
| Where the moon sojourns, if there be trees or fountain; | |
| If there be beasts of prey, or yet be fields to hunt in. | |
| Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go? | 110 |
| |
| Fain would I have it tried | |
| By experiment, | |
| By none can be denied! | |
| If in this bulk of nature, | |
| There be voids less or greater, | 115 |
| Or all remains complete. | |
| Fain would I know if beasts have any reason; | |
| If falcons killing eagles do commit a treason; | |
| If fear of winter’s want make swallows fly the season. | |
| Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go? | 120 |
| |
| Hallo, my fancy, hallo! | |
| Stay, stay at home with me, | |
| I can thee no longer follow, | |
| For thou hast betrayed me, | |
| And bewrayed me; | 125 |
| It is too much for thee. | |
| Stay, stay at home with me; leave off thy lofty soaring; | |
| Stay thou at home with me, and on thy books be poring; | |
| For he that goes abroad lays little up in storing: | |
| Thou ’rt welcome home, my fancy, welcome home to me. | 130 |
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