er defy?
These trust alone their fingers' ends,
And not one stake on me depends.
Whene'er the gaming board is set,
Two classes of mankind are met:
But if we count the greedy race,
The knaves fill up the greater space.
'Tis a gross error, held in schools,
That Fortune always favours fools.
_120
In play it never bears dispute;
That doctrine these felled oaks confute.
Then why to me such rancour show?
'Tis folly, Pan, that is thy foe.
By me his late estate he won,
But he by folly was undone.'

* * * * *

FABLE XIII.

PLUTUS, CUPID, AND TIME.

Of all the burdens man must bear,
Time seems most galling and severe:
Beneath this grievous load oppressed,
We daily meet some friend distressed.
'What can one do? I rose at nine.
'Tis full six hours before we dine:
Six hours! no earthly thing to do!
Would I had dozed in bed till two.'
A pamphlet is before him spread,
And almost half a page is read;
_10
Tired with the study of the day,
The fluttering sheets are tossed away.
He opes his snuff-box, hums an air,
Then yawns, and stretches in his chair.
'Not twenty, by the minute hand!
Good gods:' says he, 'my watch must stand!
How muddling 'tis on books to pore!
I thought I'd read an hour or more,
The morning, of all hours, I hate.
One can't contrive to rise too late.'
_20
To make the minutes faster run,
Then too his tiresome self to shun,
To the next coffee-house he speeds,
Takes up the news, some scraps he reads.
Sauntering, from chair to chair he trails;
Now drinks his tea, now bites his nails.
He spies a partner of his woe;
By chat afflictions lighter grow;
Each other's grievances they share,
And thus their dreadful hours compare.
_30
Says Tom, 'Since all men must confess,
That time lies heavy more or less;
Why should it be so hard to get
Till two, a party at piquet?
Play might relieve the lagging morn:
By cards long wintry nights are borne:
Does not quadrille amuse the fair,
Night after night, throughout the year?
Vapours and spleen forgot, at play
They cheat uncounted hours away.'
_40
'My case,' says Will, 'then must be hard
By want of skill from play debarred.
Courtiers kill time by various ways;
Dependence wears out half their days.
How happy these, whose time ne'er stands!
Attendance takes it off their hands.
Were it not