Graced with the pearl of God’s consent,
Ten times ecstatic in that ’tis
In vain disorder grasps the cup; 5
The pleasure’s not enjoyed, but spilt;
And, if he stoops to lick it up,
It only tastes of earth and guilt;
His sorry raptures rest destroys;
To live, like comets they must roam; 10
On settled poles turn solid joys,