But Ne'er The Rose Without The Thorn.

When One Is Past, Another Care We Have; Thus Woe Succeeds A Woe, As Wave A Wave.

A Winning Wave, (deserving Note.) In The Tempestuous Petticote, A Careless Shoe-string, In Whose Tye I See A Wilde Civility,-- Doe More Bewitch Me Than When Art Is Too Precise In Every Part.

In Vain Our Labours Are, Whatsoe'er They Be, Unless God Gives The Benediction.

When The Tempter Me Pursueth With The Sins Of All My Youth, And Half Damns Me With Untruth, Sweet Spirit, Comfort Me!

Temptations Hurt Not, Though They Have Accesse; Satan O'ercomes None But By Willingnesse.