TELL me where is Fancy bred,
Or in the heart or in the head?
How begot, how nourished?
   Reply, reply.
It is engender’d in the eyes,
With gazing fed; and Fancy dies
In the cradle where it lies.
   Let us all ring Fancy’s knell:
   I’ll begin it,—Ding, dong, bell.
All. Ding, dong, bell.

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