An Inventory of the Furniture in Dr. Priestley's Study

1        A map of every country known,
          With not a foot of land his own.
          A list of folks that kicked a dust
          On this poor globe, from Ptol. the First;
5        He hopes,---indeed it is but fair,---
          Some day to get a corner there.
          A group of all the British kings,
          Fair emblem! on a packthread swings.
          The Fathers, ranged in goodly row,
10      A decent, venerable show,
          Writ a great while ago, they tell us,
          And many an inch o'ertop their fellows.
          A Juvenal to hunt for mottos;
          And Ovid's tales of nymphs and grottos.
15      The meek-robed lawyers, all in white;
          Pure as the lamb,---at least, to sight.
          A shelf of bottles, jar and phial,
          By which the rogues he can defy all,---
          All filled with lightning keen and genuine,
20      And many a little imp he'll pen you in;
          Which, like Le Sage's sprite, let out,
          Among the neighbours makes a rout;
          Brings down the lightning on their houses,
          And kills their geese, and frights their spouses.
25      A rare thermometer, by which
          He settles, to the nicest pitch,
          The just degrees of heat, to raise
          Sermons, or politics, or plays.
          Papers and books, a strange mixed olio,
Joseph Priestley 30      From shilling touch to pompous folio;
          Answer, remark, reply, rejoinder,
          Fresh from the mint, all stamped and coined here;
          Like new-made glass, set by to cool,
          Before it bears the workman's tool.
35      A blotted proof-sheet, wet from Bowling.
          ---"How can a man his anger hold in?"---
         Forgotten rimes, and college themes,
          Worm-eaten plans, and embryo schemes;---
          A mass of heterogeneous matter,
40      A chaos dark, nor land nor water;---
          New books, like new-born infants, stand,
          Waiting the printer's clothing hand;---
          Others, a motley ragged brood,
          Their limbs unfashioned all, and rude,
45      Like Cadmus' half-formed men appear;
          One rears a helm, one lifts a spear,
          And feet were lopped and fingers torn
          Before their fellow limbs were born;
          A leg began to kick and sprawl

50      Before the head was seen at all,
          Which quiet as a mushroom lay
          Till crumbling hillocks gave it way;
          And all, like controversial writing,
          Were born with teeth, and sprung up fighting.
55      "But what is this," I hear you cry,
          "Which saucily provokes my eye?"---
          A thing unknown, without a name,
          Born of the air and doomed to flame.