Thus, nothing is insipid to the wise;
To thee, insipid all, but what is mad;
Joys season’d high, and tasting strong of guilt.
“Mad! (thou reply’st, with indignation fired);
Of ancient sages proud to tread the steps,
I follow Nature.”—Follow Nature still, 840
But look it be thine own: is Conscience, then,
No part of nature? Is she not supreme?
Thou regicide! Oh, raise her from the dead!
Then, follow Nature; and resemble God.