Bound to the Earth, he lifts his eye to Heaven—

Is't not enough, Unhappy Thing! to know

Thou art? Is this a boon so kindly given,

That being, thou would'st be again, and go,

Thou know'st not, reck'st not to what region, so[115]

On Earth no more, but mingled with the skies?

Still wilt thou dream on future Joy and Woe?[dt]

Regard and weigh yon dust before it flies:

That little urn saith more than thousand Homilies.