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Do unto their husbands prove so good and gainful; And why the lazy drones to them do

prove

disdainful. Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go?

4 Ships, ships, I will descry you

Amidst the main;
I will come and try you
What

you are protecting,
And projecting,

What 's your end and aim. One goes abroad for merchandise and trading, Another stays to keep his country from invading, A third is coming home with rich wealth of lading.

Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go?

5 When I look before me,

There I do behold
There's none that sees or knows me;
All the world's a-gadding,

Running madding;

None doth his station hold.
He that is below envieth him that riseth,
And he that is above, him that's below despiseth,
So every man his plot and counter-plot deviseth.

Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go?

6 Look, look, what bustling

Here I do espy;
Each another jostling,
Every one turmoiling,

The other spoiling,

As I did pass them by.
One sitteth musing in a dumpish passion,

Another hangs his head, because he's out of fashion,
A third is fully bent on sport and recreation.

Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go?

7 Amidst the foamy ocean,

Fain would I know
What doth cause the motion,

And returning

In its journeying,

And doth so seldom swerve! And how these little fishes that swim beneath salt water, Do never blind their eye; methinks it is a matter An inch above the reach of old Erra Pater!

Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go?

8 Fain would I be resolved

How things are done;
And where the bull was calved

Of bloody Phalaris,

And where the tailor is

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!

9 In conceit like Phæton,

I'll mount Phoebus' chair;
Having ne'er a hat on,

All my hair a-burning

In my journeying,

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?

10 Oh, from what ground of nature

Doth the pelican,
That self-devouring creature,

Prove so froward

And untoward,

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 adying.

Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go?

11 Fain would I conclude this,

At least make essay,
What similitude is;

Why fowls of a feather

Flock and fly together,
And lambs know beasts of

prey:
How Nature's alchemists, 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?

12 I’m rapt with admiration,

When I do ruminate,
Men of an occupation,
How each one calls him brother,
Yet each envieth other,

And yet still intimate!

Yea, I admire to see some natures further sundered,
Than antipodes to us. Is it not to be wondered,
In myriads ye 'll find, of one mind scarce a hundred !

Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go?

13 What multitude of notions

Doth perturb my pate,
Considering the motions,
How the heavens are preserved,

And this world served,

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?

14 Fain also would I prove this,

By considering
What that which you call love is:
Whether it be a folly

Or a melancholy,

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?

15 To know this world's centre,

Height, depth, breadth, and length,
Fain would I adventure
To search the hid attractions

Of magnetic actions,
And adamantic 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?

16 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,

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 makes swallows fly the season.

Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go;

17 Hallo, my fancy, hallo,

Stay, stay at home with me,
I can thee no longer follow,
For thou hast betrayed me,

And bewrayed me;

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.

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'Strange alterations which at this time be,
There's many did think they never should see.'

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