And seem to walk on wings, and tread in air.
You beat your Pate, and fancy Wit will come: Knock as you please, there's no body at home.
Fly, dotard, fly! With thy wise dreams and fables of the sky.
What's fame? a fancy'd life in other's breath. A thing beyond us, even before our death.
O peace! how many wars were waged in thy name.
On life's vast ocean diversely we sail, Reason the card, but passion is the gale; Nor God alone in the still calm we find, He mounts the storm, and walks upon the wind.