Written in the Blank Leaf of a POEM intitled Aetna

That first of Beauties in your Numbers shines, You fust your Theme with correspondent Lines. As sounding Aetna thunders from below, And Smoke, majestick, hovers round its Brow, While its tall Head shines with eternal Snow: Each various Scene your answ'ring Lines unfold, So rough you write, so cloudy, and so cold.