wAKE, my St. John! leave all meaner things
To low ambition, and the pride of Kings.
Let us (fince Life can little more supply
Than just to look about us and to die)
Expatiate free o'er all this scene of Man; 5
A mighty maze, but not without a plan;
A wild, where weeds and flow’rs promiscuous shoot,
Or Garden, tempting with forbidden fruit.
Together let us beat this ample field,
Try what the open, what the covert yield; IO
The latent tračts, the giddy heights, explore
Of all who blindly creep, or fightless soar;
Eye Nature's walks, shoot Folly as it flies,
And catch the manners living as they rise;
n O. T E s.