“Peu connue, peu troublée.”[12] I long to be
Unnoticed and unknown; my actions free—
Untrammel’d by proud fashion’s stern decrees.
O, this is life! to bow the willing knee
Alone to God, and, with a mind at ease,
To catch the gales of Heaven in every passing breeze.
XXIII.
I hate “that solemn vice of greatness—pride!”[13]
’Tis like an angel to be truly great,
Yet truly humble. He who seeks to hide