Has written fables; man was made a lie.
Why Discontent for ever harbour’d there?
Incurable consumption of our peace! 30
Resolve me, why, the cottager, and king,
He, whom sea-sever’d realms obey, and he
Who steals his whole dominion from the waste,
Repelling winter blasts with mud and straw 34
Disquieted alike, draw sigh for sigh,
In fate so distant, in complaint so near?
Is it, that things terrestrial can’t content?