Our hope in heaven, our dignity with man?
And deify the dirt, matured to gold? 220
Ambition, Avarice; the two demons these,
Which goad through every slough our human herd, 222
Hard-travell’d from the cradle to the grave.
How low the wretches stoop! how steep they climb!
These demons burn mankind; but most possess
Lorenzo’s bosom, and turn out the skies.
Is it in time to hide eternity?
And why not in an atom on the shore