Or stop the sneezing chanter at mid verse:

And when an infant's beauty prospers ill,

We change, some mothers say, the child at nurse:

But any graver purpose to fulfil,

We have not wit enough, and scarce the will."

XCI.

"We never let the canker melancholy

To gather on our faces like a rust,

But glass our features with some change of folly,

Taking life's fabled miseries on trust,