_The Lone One._ I hate to follow and I hate to lead. Obedience? no! and ruling? no, indeed! Wouldst fearful be in others' sight? Then e'en _thyself_ thou must affright: The people but the Terror's guidance heed. I hate to guide myself, I hate the fray. Like the wild beasts I'll wander far afield. In Error's pleasing toils I'll roam Awhile, then lure myself back home, Back home, and—to my self-seduction yield. 34. _Seneca et hoc Genus omne._ They write and write (quite maddening me) Their "sapient" twaddle airy, As if 'twere _primum scribere, Deinde philosophari_. 35. _Ice._ Yes! I manufacture ice: Ice may help you to digest: If you _had_ much to digest, How you would enjoy my ice! 36. _Youthful Writings._ My wisdom's A and final O Was then the sound that smote mine ear. Yet now it rings no longer so, My youth's eternal Ah! and Oh! Is now the only sound I hear.[4] 37. _Foresight._ In yonder region travelling, take good care! An hast thou wit, then be thou doubly ware! They'll smile and lure thee; then thy limbs they'll tear: Fanatics' country this where wits are rare! 38. _The Pious One Speaks._ God loves us, _for_ he made us, sent us here!— "Man hath made God!" ye subtle ones reply. His handiwork he must hold dear, And _what he made_ shall he deny? There sounds the devil's halting hoof, I fear. 39. _In Summer._ In sweat of face, so runs the screed, We e'er must eat our bread, Yet wise physicians if we heed "Eat naught in sweat," 'tis said. The dog-star's blinking: what's his need? What tells his blazing sign? In sweat of face (so runs _his_ screed) We're meant to drink our wine! 40. _Without Envy._ His look bewrays no envy: and ye laud him? He cares not, asks not if your throng applaud him! He has the eagle's eye for distance far, He sees you not, he sees but star on star! 41.