Each man he meets may claim his golden coat!
Diony. What's your rough meaning, sir?
Aris. 'Tis this, my lord.
Here is a land born in a dream of Nature,
And given to man to please her waking eyes
Until she thinks that yet she dreams. His task
To build the adorning temple, turn groves retired
To happy shades where wisdom meets with youth,
And with triumphant art set statued thought
To gleam abroad from every favored spot