A rich rogue nowadays is fit company for any gentleman; and the world, my dear, hath not such a contempt for roguery as you imagine.
Youth's the season made for joys, Love is then our duty.
By outward show let's not be cheated; An ass should like an ass be treated.
Were I laid on Greenland's Coast, And in my Arms embrac'd my Lass; Warm amidst eternal Frost, Too soon the Half Year's Night would pass.
Who talks much, must talk in vain.
Exercise thy lasting youth defends.