Where, for divorces, people sue, we know.
The Judges and the Proctors, so devout,
Would, with the culprit, wish to have a bout.
Adultery, tho’ call’d a crying sin,
Without they’re paid, would not be worth a pin:
They’ll sell you licences to get a bride,
And, on complaint, divorces have beside.
O happy land! where such good laws remain,
That you may wed, and be unwed again;
That sacred knot, recorded so on high!