But is this feeling then, I hear thee cry, That elevates my soul to virtue high, This anxious wish to investigate and know, Is it blameworthy as those passions low? Why not to that for happiness repair? Wilt thou condemn it? No, who would so dare, That right would learn his origin and end? Knowledge and Virtue, sisters like, descend From heaven to perfect man in nobleness; And far removing him, Bermudo, yes! From vice and error, they will make him free, Approaching even to the Deity. But seek them not, in that false path to go Which cunning Fortune will to others show. Where then? to Wisdom’s temple only haste; There thou wilt find them. Her invoke; and traced, See how she smiles! press forward; learn to use The intercession of the kindly Muse To make her be propitious. But beware, That in her favour thou escape the snare, The worship, which the vain adorer pays. She never him propitiously surveys, Who insolently seeking wealth or fame, Burns impure incense on her altar’s flame. Dost thou not see how many turn aside From her of learning void, but full of pride? Alas for him, who seeking truth, for aid Embraces only a delusive shade! In self conceit who venturing to confide, Nor virtue gain’d, nor reason for his guide, Leaves the right path, precipitate to stray Where error’s glittering phantoms lead the way! Can then the wise hope happiness to feel In the chimæras sought with so much zeal? Ah, no! they all are vanities and cheats! See him, whom anxious still the morning greets, Measuring the heavens, and of the stars that fly The shining orbits! With a sleepless eye, Hasty the night he reckons, and complains Of the day’s light his labour that detains; Again admires night’s wonders, but reflects Ne’er on the hand that fashion’d and directs. Beyond the moons of Uranus he bends His gaze; beyond the Ship, the Bear, ascends: But after all this, nothing more feels he: He measures, calculates, but does not see The heavens obeying their great Author’s will, Whirling around all silent; robbing still The hours from life, ungratefully so gone, Till one to undeceive him soon draws on.