"Alas! for me, no more the times of peace
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Are mine on earth—in death my pains may cease.
"Foes to my soul! ye young seducers, know,
What serious ills from your amusements flow;
Opinions you with so much ease profess
O'erwhelm the simple and their minds oppress:
Let such be happy, nor with reasons strong,
That make them wretched, prove their notions wrong;
Let them proceed in that they deem the way,