(seq. 54)

48

And in the giddy whirl of senseless dance,

Leaves no impression of substantial peace,

To recompence the toil of weary life?

The debauche beset with spotted ills

Whose bloated face the index of his bliss

Betrays, & in a silent language speaks,

Pathetic as the shrillest voice can tell,

That putrefaction makes a swift advance

And by possession pleads a title to

The pamperd carcase of the silly man,

That with industrious labour sought to swim

And teach the flowing bowl to mock his zeal

And drive him from the brutal herd of bucks,

Whose giddy laugs attends him down to hell

All emulous to blot his mem'ry out,

And leave but just the letters of his name,

And those approbious too, that meet the spurns

Of those, who once could laugh & tip the jest,

That from his lips unhallow'd flow'd, & join

And join The sacriligious shouit of tongue prophan

That mingled curses with the lib'ral burst