John Dryden (Äæîí Äðàéäåí)

Mankind

Men are but children of a larger growth;
Our appetites are apt to change as theirs,
And full as craving too, and full as vain;
And yet the soul, shut up in her dark room,
Viewing so clear abroad, at home sees nothing;
But, like a mole in earth, busy and blind,
Works all her folly up, and casts it outward
To the world's open view. 

1. To John Hoddesdon, on his Divine Epigrams
2. Upon Young Mr. Rogers, of Gloucestershire
3. The Tears of Amynta for the Death of Damon
4. Epitaph on a Nephew in Catworth Church, Huntingdonshire
5. On Mrs. Margaret Paston, of Barningham, in Norfolk

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