I look'd at awful quoif and scarlet gown
Through others' optics, not my own:
Untie the Gordian knot that will,
I see no rhetoric at all
In them that learnedly can brawl,
And fill with mercenary breath the spacious hall;
Let me be peaceable, let me be still.
The solitary Tishbite heard the wind,
With strength and violence combin'd,
110That rent the mountains, and did make