Men, some to business take, some to pleasure take; but every woman is at heart a rake
Wise wretch! with pleasures too refined to please, With too much spirit to be e'er at ease, With too much quickness ever to be taught, With too much thinking to have common thought: You purchase pain with all that joy can give, And die of nothing but...
If I am right, Thy grace impart Still in the right to stay; If I am wrong, O, teach my heart To find that better way!
