To watch the storms, and hear the sky Give all our almanacks the lie; To shake with cold, and see the plains In autumn drown`d with wintry rains; `Tis thus I spend my moments here, And wish myself a Dutch mynheer; I then should have no need of wit; For lumpish Hollander unfit! Nor should I then repine at mud. Or meadows deluged with a flood; But in a bog live well content, And find it just my element; Should be a clod, and not a man; Nor wish in vain for Sister Ann, With charitable aid to drag My mind out of its proper quag; Should have the genius of a boor, And no ambition to have more.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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