And seeks for Pleasure; but it is not found.
All he can see he many times has seen,
And round and round the Maze of Pleasure been.
The Pictures, now familiar to the Eye,
He owns their beauty, but he passes by;
These stately Rooms—that Park so fenced about,
Where he was free, now shut his Freedom out,
And keeps, he feels—yet fears it as a Sin,
And he ungrateful—Lassitude within.
Himself discerning, he has learned to trace