He sees that this great roundabout The world, with all its motley rout, Church, army, physic, law, Its customs and its businesses, Is no concern at all of his, And sayswhat says he?Caw.
He that holds fast the golden mean,1 And lives contentedly between The little and the great, Feels not the wants that pinch the poor, Nor plagues that haunt the rich mans door.
Soon shall thy arm, unconquerd steam! afar Drag the slow barge, or drive the rapid car; Or on wide-waving wings expanded bear The flying chariot through the field of air.
No radiant pearl which crested Fortune wears, No gem that twinkling hangs from Beautys ears, Not the bright stars which Nights blue arch adorn, Nor rising suns that gild the vernal morn, Shine with such lustre as the tear that flows Down Virtues manly cheek for others woes.