 | Every Man in his Own Way |  |
There are who fix their Pleasure in a Race,
Whose Acres lessen, as their Steeds increase;
Some place their Joys in ancient Coins, and some
Admire the curious Busts of Greece and Rome:
Others in Painting all their Fortune waste,
While dunning Tradesmen curse their lavish Taste.
So much they honour the illustrious Dead,
They wrong the Living of their daily Bread.
In Building some consume a vast Estate,
And only leave their Heirs the Walls to eat;
These for a Supper many Hundreds pay,
While those in Music tune their Wealth away.
Thus diff'rent as our Faces are our Views;
Yet each this Harlot Happiness pursues;
This common Strumpet is all by all ador'd,
She's Mistress to the Fidler, and the Lord.
Whose Acres lessen, as their Steeds increase;
Some place their Joys in ancient Coins, and some
Admire the curious Busts of Greece and Rome:
Others in Painting all their Fortune waste,
While dunning Tradesmen curse their lavish Taste.
So much they honour the illustrious Dead,
They wrong the Living of their daily Bread.
In Building some consume a vast Estate,
And only leave their Heirs the Walls to eat;
5
While those in Music tune their Wealth away.
Thus diff'rent as our Faces are our Views;
Yet each this Harlot Happiness pursues;
This common Strumpet is all by all ador'd,
She's Mistress to the Fidler, and the Lord.
| Every Man in his Own Way | |