FArewel ye Unsubstantial Joyes, Ye Gilded Nothings, Gaudy Toyes, Too long ye have my Soul misled, Too long with Aiery Diet fed: But now my Heart ye shall no more Deceive, as you have heretofore: For when I hear such Sirens sing, Like Ithaca's fore-warned King, With prudent Resolution I Will so my Will and Fancy tye, That stronger to the Mast not he, Than I to Reason bound will be: And though your Witchcrafts strike my Ear, Unhurt, like him, your Charms I'll hear.