Virtue has her relapses, conflicts, foes;
Foes, that ne’er fail to make her feel their hate.
Virtue has her peculiar set of pains.
True friends to virtue, last, and least, complain;
But if they sigh, can others hope to smile?
If Wisdom has her miseries to mourn, 390
How can poor Folly lead a happy life? 391
And if both suffer, what has earth to boast,
Where he most happy, who the least laments?
Where much, much patience, the most envied state,