Aaron Hill

Who backs his rigid Sabbath, so to speak,
Against the wicked remnant of the week."

Who backs his rigid Sabbath, so to speak,
Against the wicked remnant of the week."

At night, to his own sharp fancies a prey,
He lies like a hedgehog rolled up the wrong way,
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At night, to his own sharp fancies a prey,
He lies like a hedgehog rolled up the wrong way,
Tormenting himself with his prickles.

Letters, from absent friends, extinguish fear,
Unite division, and draw distance near;
Their magic force each silent read more

Letters, from absent friends, extinguish fear,
Unite division, and draw distance near;
Their magic force each silent wish conveys,
And wafts embodied though, a thousand ways:
Could souls to bodies write, death's pow'r were mean,
For minds could then meet minds with heav'n between.

Hundreds of men were turned into beasts,
Like the guests at Circe's horrible feasts,
By the magic read more

Hundreds of men were turned into beasts,
Like the guests at Circe's horrible feasts,
By the magic of ale and cider.

Tender handed stroke a nettle,
And it stings you for your pains;
Grasp it like a man read more

Tender handed stroke a nettle,
And it stings you for your pains;
Grasp it like a man of mettle,
And it soft as silk remains.