This sacred truth, by sure experience taught,
They must have learn’d when wand’ring all alone,
Each bird, each insect, flitting through the sky,
Was more sufficient for itself than thou.
Thomson.
For the strong spirit will at times awake,
Piercing the mists that wrap her clay abode;
And, born of thee, she may not always take
Earth’s accents for the oracles of God;
And ev’n in this—O dust, whose mask is power!