A Being form’d of intricate, nice plan,
Spurning the confines or of time or place.
Fain would I now retire from busy life,
Sequester’d in some solitary cell,
Alike unknown to envy and to strife,
And bid all noisy scenes a long farewell.
There no ambition should possess my mind,
Or pleasure’s gilded baits my heart betray;
But, to religion perfectly resign’d,
I’d pass my moments usefully away.