Poem by John Dryden

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. A Song (High State and Honours to others impart)
2. Upon Young Mr. Rogers, of Gloucestershire
3. Epitaph on Sir Palmes Fairborne's Tomb in Westminster Abbey
4. Epitaph on a Nephew in Catworth Church, Huntingdonshire
5. Hymn For St. John's Eve, 29th June

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