"Of varied creatures, mark th' unnumber'd store Wand'ring at will the wide creation o'er: Some drag along their lengths in speckled pride, And trace the dust in furrows as they glide; Some soaring mount the winds with daring wing. And thro' the fields of air exulting sing; Whilst others o'er the fruitful valley rove, Or seek the shadows of the sounding grove. Tho' varied brutal forms are endless found, Their looks dejected ever love the ground; This grov'ling posture stupefies the sense. And all their low propensions issue thence. Imperial man alone rears high his head. And spurns the sordid earth with stately tread: Admonish'd hence, if not by glaring toys Seduc'd, and sunk in Sense's baneful joys; Taught by his form erect, and lifted eye, Let man's aspiring thoughts still range on high; Thus—'twixt his aspect, and his tow'ring mind, We, pleas'd, a strict conformity shall find."
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Boethius's Consolation of Philosophy
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