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152
HORACE'S ART OF POETRY,

To play with those of his own growth is pleased,
Suddenly angiy, and as soon appeased,
Fond of new trifles, and as quickly cloyed,
And loathes next hour what he the last enjoyed.
The beardless youth from pedagogue got loose,
Does dogs and horses for his pleasure choose;
Yielding, and soft to every print of vice,
Resty to those who would his faults chastise,
Careless of profit, of expenses vain,
Haughty, and eager his desires to obtain,
And swift to quit the same desires again.
Those, who to manly years and sense are grown,
Seek wealth and friendship, honour and renown;
And are discreet, and fearful how to act
What after they must alter and correct.
Diseases, ills, and troubles numberless
Attend old men, and with their age increase;
In painful toil they spend their wretched years,
Still heaping wealth, and with that wealth new cares;
Fond to possess, and fearful to enjoy;
Slow, and suspicious in their managery;
Full of delays and hopes, lovers of ease,
Greedy of life, morose, and hard to please;
Envious at pleasures of the young and gay,
Where they themselves now want a stock to play;
Ill-natured censors of the present age,
And what has passed since they have quit the stage;
But loud admirers of Queen Bess's time,
And what was done when they were in their prime.
Thus, what our tide of flowing years brings in,
Still with our ebb of life goes out again;
The humours of fourscore will never hit
One of fifteen, nor a boy's part befit
A full-grown man; it shows no mean address,
If you the tempers of each age express.
Some things are best to act, others to tell;
Those by the ear conveyed do not so well,