Odds life! Must one swear to the truth of a song?
The ends must justify the means.
Forbear to mention what thou canst not praise.
They always talk who never think.
Who walks the fastest, but walks astray, is only furthest from his way.
Hope is but the dream of those who wake.
For, when with beauty we can virtue join, We paint the semblance of a form divine.
He's half absolv'd who has confess'd.
Similes are like songs of love: they much describe, they nothing prove.
Hope is but the dream of those that wake.
They never taste who always drink; they always talk who never think.
Be to her virtues very kind. Be to her faults a little blind.
And 'tis remarkable that they talk most who have the least to say.
They talk most who have the least to say.
They never taste who always drink They always talk, who never think.
Hopes are but the dreams of those that wake.
Fantastic tyrant of the amorous heart. How hard thy yoke, how cruel thy dart. Those escape your anger who refuse your sway, and those are punished most, who most obey.
