Near to the dome a magic pair reside
Prompt to deceive, and practis'd to confound;
Here hood-winkt Ignorance is seen to bide
Stretching in darksome cave along the ground.
No object e'er awakes his stupid eyes,
Nor voice articulate arrests his ears,
Save when beneath the moon pale spectres rise,
And haunt his soul with visionary fears:
Or when hoarse winds incavern'd murmur round,
And babbling echo wakes, and iterates the sound.