And call’d mankind to glory, shook off pain,
Mortality shook off, in ether pure, 240
And struck the stars; now feel my spirits fail;
They drop me from the zenith; down I rush,
Like him whom fable fledged[18] with waxen wings,
In sorrow drown’d—but not in sorrow lost.
How wretched is the man who never mourn’d!
I dive for precious pearl in sorrow’s stream:
Not so the thoughtless man that only grieves;
Takes all the torment, and rejects the gain;