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Eaten I have; and though I had good cheer, I did not sup, because no friends were there. Where mirth and friends are absent when we dine Or sup, there wants the incense and the wine.

All things o'er-ruled are here by chance: The greatest man's inheritance, Where'er the lucky lot doth fall, Serves but for place of burial.

Ursley, she thinks those velvet patches grace The candid temples of her comely face; But he will say, whoe'er those circlets seeth, They be but signs of Ursley's hollow teeth.

Here we securely live and eat The cream of meat, And keep eternal fires, By which we sit, and do divine As wine And rage inspires.