As that of seas remote, or dying storms:
And meditate on scenes, more silent still;
Pursue my theme, and fight the fear of death. 88
Here, like a shepherd gazing from his hut,
Touching his reed, or leaning on his staff,
Eager ambition’s fiery chace I see;
I see the circling hunt, of noisy men,
Burst law’s enclosure, leap the mounds of right,
Pursuing, and pursued, each other’s prey;
As wolves, for rapine; as the fox, for wiles;