"Lo, an innumerable race
Before the barred portals lying;
And each the trusty servant plays,
The ears of men so blandly plying.
So men are lured the king to gain,
Divining not that they are captured;
But thus by specious longing raptured,
Forget the hidden cause of pain.
"But few are cunning and awake,
Nor ever for his treasures pining;