Own honey sweet; but, owning, add this sting;
“When mix’d with poison, it is deadly too.”
Truth never was indebted to a lie.
Is nought but virtue to be praised, as good?
Why then is health preferr’d before disease?
What nature loves is good, without our leave. 590
And where no future drawback cries, “Beware!”
Pleasure, though not from virtue, should prevail.
’Tis balm to life, and gratitude to Heaven;
How cold our thanks for bounties unenjoy’d! 594