red loveliness: then he would sigh

    ito t ot

    never feel: and so, lost man!

    On visionary views would fancy feed,

    till reamed ears. In this deep vale

    .

    If t the holy forms

    Of young imagination  pure,

    Stranger!  pride,

    s oy,

    Is littleness; t empt

    For any living ties

    t h him

    Is in its infancy. the man, whose eye

    Is ever on h look on one,

    t of natures works, one w move

    to t scorn which wisdom holds

    Unlahou!

    Instructed t true knoo love,

    true dignity abides h him alone

    ,

    Can still suspect, and still revere himself,

    In lowliness of .