Then beaux and smarts, amongst mankind,
Are in their notions most refin’d;
But well we know, by men of sense,
They’re tax’d with vain impertinence.
I therefore think true pleasure lies
(If I may be thought fit t’advise)
In careless indolence and ease,
Not suff’ring anything to tease,
Regardless what th’ ambitious fly at,
So we’re but undisturb’d and quiet;