But all was false and hollow; though his tongue Dropp'd manna, and could make the worse appear The better reason, 4 to perplex and dash Maturest counsels.

All seemed well pleased, all seemed, but were not all.

Farewell Hope, and with Hope farewell Fear

Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall.

Vain wisdom all, and false philosophy.

And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience to attain To something like prophetic strain.

Where no hope is left, is left no fear.