Next young  smiling brings
Alternate joy to Slaves and Kings.
The Monarch, lo! in transports hurl'd,
Surveys in thought a conquer'd world.
The Peasant o'er his clod espies
Preferments, riches, honours rise;
Till, (what sometimes is vastly odd)
The vision flies, and leaves the clod:
Yet  gilds his joys;
Fruition only cures, and cloys.
Gay, blooming Expectation strays
To charming scenes, thro' charming ways;
With wondrous art it can foresee
What never was, nor e'er can be:
Yet who would wish to spy the cheat?
Or who'd not hug the dear deceit?
Since life's prime bliss, it is believ'd,
Consists in being —