See how the World its Veterans rewards! A Youth of Frolics, an old Age of Cards; Fair to no purpose, artful to no end, Young without Lovers, old without a Friend; A Fop their Passion, but their Prize a Sot; Alive ridiculous, and dead forgot.
A youth of frolic, an old age of cards.
Sickness is a sort of early old age; it teaches us a diffidence in our earthly state.
Oh! if to dance all night, and dress all day, Charm'd the small-pox, or chas'd old age away; . . . . To patch, nay ogle, might become a saint, Nor could it sure be such a sin to paint.
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