"But thou, admired Eugenius, whose great arts Shine above envy and the common arts ... Shake off the eclipse, this dark, intruding veil Which would force night upon us and entail The same gross ignorance — in whose shades he Hath lost himself — on our posterity. Down, all you stale impostures, castles rear'd In th' air and guarded by thy reverend beard, Brat of Nichomachus. I will no more Bow to thy hoary handful nor adore Thy tyrant text; but by this dawning light, Which streams upon me through thy three-piled night, Pass to the East of truth, till I may see Man's first fair state, when sage simplicity, The dove and serpent, innocent and wise, Dwelt in his breast and he in Paradise. There from the Tree of Knowledge his best boughs I'll pluck a garland for Eugenius' brows, Which to succeeding times fame shall bequeathe, With this most just applause — Great Vaughan's wreath."