Song LXII., pp.314-315.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

HOW happy are we, 

Who from thinking are free, 

That curbing disease of the mind, 

Can indulge every taste, 

Love where we like best, 

Not by dull reputation confin’d, 

– 

When we are young, fit to toy, 

Gay delights we enjoy, 

And have crowds of new lovers still wooing; 

When we’re old and decay’d, 

We procure for the trade, 

Srill in every age we are doing. 

– 

If a cully we meet, 

We spend what we get 

Every day, for the next never think; 

When we die, where we go 

We have no sense to know, 

For a bawd always dies in her drink. 

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