IV + 

They faded, and, forsooth! I wanted wings: + 

O folly! What is Love? and where is it? + 

And for that poor Ambition! it springs + 

From a man’s little heart’s short fever-fit; + 

For Poesy!⁠—no,⁠—she has not a joy,⁠— + 

At least for me,⁠—so sweet as drowsy noons, + 

And evenings steep’d in honied indolence; + 

O, for an age so shelter’d from annoy, + 

That I may never know how change the moons, + 

Or hear the voice of busy common-sense! + 