(seq. 53)

47

That into wildest laughter bursting rose,

With all the plaudits of an empty wit,

To crown the vapid brain that hove in sight,

The jargon of an epicureans bliss;

Here thot grows big with innocent delights,

And feasts on dainties rich as Heav'n can give,

With all the soft perfumes of natures store,

That rise in countless numbers to the sight,

With wonders of immortal date, that glow

Expressive as the heart of man can wish;

Then why so lavish of an empty shade,

That no proportion bears to they desire,

When ev'ry heaving breath may push the joy

Beyond thy grasp, & quite despoil thy hope,

And land the sordid laugh in world unknown?

Why thus expensive to procure the pain,

That hangs a pondrous weight upon thy soul,