Throw Physic To The Dogs; I'll None

But Since The Affairs Of Men Rests Still Incertain, Let's Reason With The Worst That May Befall.

While He Was Drunk Asleep, Or In His Rage, Or In The Incestuous Pleasure Of His Bed.

And, Looking On It With Lack-lustre Eye, Says Very Wisely, "it Is Ten O'clock: Thus We May See," Quoth He, "how The World Wags."

But Yet, I Say, If Imputation And Strong Circumstances, Which Lead Directly To The Door Of Truth, Will Give You Satisfaction, You May Have It.

Let Fancy Still In My Sense In Lethe Steep; If It Be Thus To Dream, Still Let Me Sleep!