Imposed, precarious, broken ere mature.
By night, from objects free, from passion cool, 120
Thoughts uncontroll’d, and unimpress’d, the births
Of pure election, arbitrary range,
Not to the limits of one world confined; 123
But from ethereal travels light on earth,
As voyagers drop anchor, for repose.
Let Indians, and the gay, like Indians, fond
Of feather’d fopperies, the sun adore:
Darkness has more divinity for me;