So Vast Is Art, So

Women Use Lovers As They Do Cards; They Play With Them A While, And When They Have Got All They Can By Them, Throw Them Away, Call For New Ones, And Then Perhaps Lose By The New All They Got By The Old Ones.

Such As Are Still Observing Upon Others Are Like Those Who Are Always Abroad At Other Men's Houses, Reforming Everything There While Their Own Runs To Ruin.

Virtue, I Grant You, Is An Empty Boast; But Shall The Dignity Of Vice Be Lost?

But If You'll Prosper, Mark What I Advise, Whom Age, And Long Experience Render Wise.

Dulness! Whose Good Old Cause I Yet Defend, With Whom My Muse Began, With Who Shall End.