Is wasted in this world of half an acre!
Cast off thy frock—come forth with me. The man
Who can detect my sophisms at a glance
Is safe enough, without the galling chains
That fetter him to prayer and solitude.
Come forth with me;
There’s a fair field without these gloomy walls
For such a brain as thine—a merry world,
Teeming with song and dance—a grateful world,
Where gallant deed and brilliant enterprise