That all proceed in one appointed track,

Where none can stop, or take their journey back!

Then what is vice or virtue?—Yet he'll rail

At priests till memory and quotation fail;

He reads, to learn the various ills they've done,

And calls them vipers, every mother's son.

He is the harlot's aid, who wheedling tries

To move her friend for vanity's supplies;

To weak indulgence he allures the mind,

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