Who would believe what strange bugbears,

Mankind creates itself of fears.

That spring like fern that insect weed,

Equivocally, without seed?

And have no possible foundation,

But merely in the imagination?

And yet can do more dreadful feats

Than hags, with all their imps and teats.


Make more bewitch and haunt themselves,

Than all their nurseries of elves.

For fear does things so like a witch,
Tis hard to unriddle which is which