For 'tis not where we lie, but whence we fell

He ought not to pretend to friendship's name, Who reckons not himself and friend the same.

Happiness is a stranger to mankind, And, like to a forc'd motion, it is ever Strongest at the beginning; then languishing With time, grows weary of our company.

Friendship's an empty name, made to deceive Those whose good nature tempts them to believe: There's no such thing on earth; the best that we Can hope for here is faint neutrality.

A fop? In this brave, licentious age To bring his musty morals on the stage? Rhime us to reason? and our lives redress In metre, as Druids did the savages.

He is a fool who thinks by force or skill To turn the current of a woman's will.

He, who the rules of temperance neglects, From a good cause may produce vile effects.