Why brand these pleasures with the name
Of soft, unsocial toils, of indolence and shame?
Search but the garden, or the wood,
Let yon admir'd carnation own,
Not  was meant for raiment, or for food,
Not  for needful use alone;
There while the seed of future blossoms dwell,
'Tis colour'd for the sight, perfum'd to please the smell.