See, with a throbbing heart and trembling hand,
There he has placed his fortune, all to stand
Upon the turning of a die! ’Tis done:
The lot is cast; what is it? has he won?
Increased is his anxiety and care!
But if reverse, O Heaven! in deep despair,
O’erwhelm’d in ruin, he is doom’d to know
A life of infamy, or death of woe.
And is he happier, who distracted lies
A slave beneath the light of beauty’s eyes?