“Or shall we every decency confound, Through taverns, stews, and bagnios take our round, Go dine with Chartres, in each vice out-do K—-l's lewd cargo, or Ty—-y's crew, From Latian Syrens, French Circean feasts, Return well travelled, and transformed to beasts. If, after all, we must with Wilmot own, The cordial drop of life is love alone, And Swift cry wisely, "Vive la Bagatelle!" The man that loves and laughs, must sure do well.
Adieu—if this advice appear the worst, E'en take the counsel which I gave you first: Or better precepts if you can impart, Why do, I'll follow them with all my heart. THE FIRST EPISTLE OF THE SECOND BOOK OF HORACE.”