Page:Essays - Abraham Cowley (1886).djvu/134

 atom in relation to those numberless worlds that are scattered up and down in the infinite space of the sky which we behold. The other many inconveniences of grandeur I have spoken of dispersedly in several chapters, and shall end this with an ode of Horace, not exactly copied but rudely imitated.

, ye profane; I hate ye all; Both the great vulgar, and the small. To virgin minds, which yet their native whiteness hold, Not yet discoloured with the love of gold
 * (That jaundice of the soul,

Which makes it look so gilded and so foul), To you, ye very few, these truths I tell; The muse inspires my song, hark, and observe it well.