Sorrow's Faded Form, And Solitude Behind.

To Contemplation's Sober Eye. / Such Is The Race Of Man.

But Knowledge To Their Eyes Her Ample Page Rich With The Spoils Of Time Did Ne'er Unroll; Chill Penury Repressed Their Noble Rage, And Froze The Genial Current Of The Soul.

And Truth Severe, By Fairy Fiction Drest.

In Buskined Measures Move Pale Grief And Pleasing Pain, With Horror, Tyrant Of The Throbbing Breast.

Beyond The Limits Of A Vulgar Fate, Beneath The Good How Far,-but Far Above The Great.