I think should ready absolution find;
Slight peccadillo of an erring mind,
Artless and rude, of all disguises void,
Their simple hearts too easy to believe
(Conscious of nothing ill) that saints in tombs
Enshrin’d should any happiness perceive
From quaffing cups, and wines’ ascending fumes,
Must be excus’d, since what they did they meant
With piety ill plac’d, yet good intent.
Similar pleas are occasionally urged by roysterers nowadays, yet they are but seldom credited in their own parishes.