10.
‘However, thou art happy?’ Say not so!
Thy Faith is dead, for it is buried here;
Thy Love is nothing, for it does not cheer;
Thy Hope a lie; thou sow'st not - shalt thou mow?
Thy Piety is but a selfish scheme;
Thou art but cruel, though they call thee holy;
Thy worship is a fancy and a folly;
And, oh! how shalt thou waken from thy dream?