Classic Poem

Go satisfie thy curious Mind,
Search either Hemisphere;
Yet after all thy Pains Thou'lt find
There's nothing certain here.

II.

In vain poor Mortals hunt for Bliss,
And grasp the fleeting Air:
Alas! on Earth we nought possess
But Vanity and Care.

III.

With servile Fears, and golden Chains,
The needy Miser 's bound;
The Great in Wealth and Pleasure reigns,
Yet Cares their Bliss confound.

IV.

Ah! let us then our Love refine,
Not doat on Things Below;
And let our Souls that are divine
To their just Center flow.