47.
But now my task is done. I drop the pen
And turn to earth, where bodily affairs
Call me to tussle with my fellow men
For my small share of sustenance, and then
Essay to help the weaker gather theirs;
Would that I had the power to clearer make
The meaning of my theme; but all my prayers
Are vain to help my cause, or even wake
One echo in the mind that feels no thirst to slake.