Of ensigns various; all alike in this,
All restless, anxious; toss’d with hopes, and fears,
In calmest skies; obnoxious all to storm; 157
And stormy the most general blast of life:
All bound for happiness; yet few provide
The chart of knowledge, pointing where it lies;
Or Virtue’s helm, to shape the course design’d:
All, more or less, capricious fate lament,
Now lifted by the tide, and now resorb’d, 163
And farther from their wishes than before: