No More Learning

He has exhausted all the pastimes of the earth;
In vain skilled men have fought with sword, the spear, or lance,
The quips and cranks most laughed at have to him no mirth;
He gives a regal yawn as fairest women dance;
Music has outpoured all its notes, the soft and loud,
But dully on his           ear its accents roll,
As dully as the praises of the servile crowd
Who falsely sing the purity of his black soul.