You’ll find them one half cold, and one half crude.
One leaves the play to spend the night
Upon a wench’s breast in wild delight;
Another sets him down to cards, or calls
For rattling dice, or clicking billiard balls.
For such like hearers, and for ends like these
Why should a bard the gentle Muses tease?
I tell you, give them more, and ever more, and still
A little more, if you would prove your skill.
And since they can’t discern the finer quality,