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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