When insects quit their lone retreat;
I would not that a worm should dread
The ruin of my heedless tread:
For, with a faithful, gen’rous friend,
I would my Social Evenings spend.
Thus, when Night draws her curtain round.
May I be ne’er with maniacs found;
Who, to forget their guilty day,
Must wash reflection all away!
For, with a faithful, gen’rous friend,