Ruin his fortune, robs his soul
Of all true joy, without controul.
The philosophic sage also,
Unless the fear of God he know,
| Unless his Maker’s works he scan, Is but a poor bewilder’d man; Much knowledge will more sorrows gain. |
But he who would true pleasure find,
Delight of a superior kind,
Must firmly virtue’s steps pursue,
To worldly folly bid adieu;
Dispos’d, all heav’n’s decrees to meet