[THE
Maim’d Debauchee.]
I.
As some brave Admiral in former War
Depriv’d of Force, but prest with Courage still,
Two rival Fleets appearing from afar,
Crawls to the Top of an adjacent Hill.
II.
From whence (with Thoughts full of Concern) he views
The wise, and daring Conduct, of the Fight:
And each bold Action to his Mind renews,
His present Glory, and his past Delight.
III.
From his fierce Eyes flashes of Rage he throws,
As from black Clouds when Lightning breaks away,
Transported thinks himself amidst his Foes,
And absent yet enjoys the bloody Day.
IV.
So when my Days of Impotence approach,
And I’m by Love and Wine’s unlucky Chance,
Driv’n from the pleasing Billows of Debauch,
On the dull Shore of lazy Temperance.