John Wilmot

“ The solid Comforts of a Coxcombs life:
Dung-hill and Pease forsook, he comes to Town,
Turns Spark, learns to be lewd, and is undone.
Nothing sutes worse with Vice, than want of Sence,
Fools are still wicked at their own Expence. ”

“ To find th' ill-humour'd Pleasure at their need,
Scorn'd if you fail, and Curss'd if you succeed.
Yet like an arrant Woman, as I am,
No sooner well convinc'd, Writing's a shame;
That Whore is scarce a more reproachful Name
Than Poetess!———
As Men that Marry, or as Maids that Woo,
Cause 'tis the very worst thing they can do:
Pleas'd with the Contradiction and the Sin;
Methinks I stand on Thorns till I begin.
You expect to hear at least, what Loves have past
In this lewd Town, since you and I meet last;
What Change hath hapned of Intrigues, and whether
The old Ones last ”

“ Should be a Fool through Choice, not want of Wit:
Whose Foppery, without the help of Sence,
Could ne'r have rise to such an Excellence.
Nature's as lame in making a true Fop,
As a Philosopher the very top
And Dignity of Folly we attain ”