PASSION.
Reading edition
Some minds are formed to mount, with eagle wing,
Above the common herd—content to dwell
Without a wish beyond the joys of sense,
Till love, resistless love, assails their hearts,
And now no longer soaring o’er the crowd,
Lark-like, they build their nests upon the earth.
’Tis thus that passion ever brings us down,
Making our minds’ wings—thoughts—of no avail.