And melts our air-built castles into nought;
Hope beckons on, and man obsequious runs
The same wild race, and with the same result;
While tasteless creeps the present tiresome hour.—
—Say, Moralist, with philosophic eye,
From hence what useful lesson may be learn’d,
And what inferr’d to cheer the hopeless heart;
Has not th’ all-wise Director of events
Implanted deep within the human breast
A hope of happiness, not here attain’d,