A LONELY Man he was, from whom these lays
Flow'd in his cloister'd musings: He in scorn
Held them, the unfeeling multitude, who born
For deeds of nobler purpose, their ripe days
Waste amidst fraudful industry, to raise
Inglorious wealth. - But He, life's studious morn
Gave to the Muse, so best might he adorn
His thoughtful brow with never-dying bays.
And well the Muse repaid him. She hath given
An unsubstantial world of richer fee;
High thoughts, unchanging visions, that the leaven
Of earth partake not; Rich then must he be,
Who of this cloudless world, this mortal heaven,
Possesseth in his right the Sovereignty.