Man’s a king; his throne is duty,
Since his work on earth began.
Bud and harvest, bloom and vintage—
These, like man, are fruits of earth;
Stamp’d in clay, a heavenly vintage,
All from dust receive their birth.
Barn and mill, and wine-vat’s treasures,
Earthly goods for earthly lives;
These are Nature’s ancient pleasures—
These her child from her derives.