And ere they’ve learned to live, they die of care.
Some do themselves as well as others too,
And still declare they’ve not enough to do,
Saunter through Life, and vow it is a gem,
And say they’re killing Time, while Time kills them.
II.
Pleasure just now indeed is quite the rage,
No matter sex or station, rank or age.
The child, we know, is tickled with a straw,
The boy is happy with his hoop or taw;