Retirement of Philosophy

As little springs that force their liquid way From bottom of the ever-raging flood, Beat off rude waves, and rising into day, To thirsty sailors prove a sov'reign good: So, fair Philosophy, thy deep-drawn streams Pervade ev'n rankest tides of error foul, Dispel the rage of superstitious dreams, Imparting tranquil pleasure to the soul! Soft-pinion'd Peace attends thy simple state, Retires with thee to bow'r or rocky cell; The Sciences, thy handmaids, ready wait, With thee, alone, bright Truth delights to dwell: While all afar prevails the horrid rout Which Scylla and Charybdis herds about.