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Without a tongue, ufing conceit alone,

Without eyes, ears, and harmful found of words;
Then, in defpight of broad-ey'd watchful day,
I would into thy bofom pour my thoughts:

But ah, I will not-yet I love thee well;
And, by my troth, I think thou lov'ft me well.

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ON THE

PRETERNATURAL

BEINGS.

The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heav'n,
And, as Imagination bodies forth

The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to fhape, and gives to airy nothing

A local habitation and a name.

Midfummer Night's Dream.

I 2

ON THE

PRETERNATURAL

BEINGS.

As the whole extent of the Poet's proA$

S the genius of Shakespear, through

vince, is the object of our enquiry, we fhould do him great injustice, if we did not attend to his peculiar felicity in those fictions and inventions, from which Poetry derives its highest distinction, and from whence it first affumed its pretenfions to divine inspiration, and appeared the associate of Religion.

The ancient Poet was admitted into the fynod of the Gods: he discoursed of their natures, he repeated their counfels, and, without the charge of impiety or prefumption, disclosed their diffenfions, and publish

ed their vices: He peopled the woods with

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