This  saw, and bid me go
Into the Carcase of a Beau,
To taste of Pleasure and of Pains,
With slender Purse and shallow Brains,
My Wig behind was smartly ty'd,
My silver Box with Snuff supply'd:
On Books I seldom lov'd to pore,
But sung and danc'd, and aptly swore;
Where-e'er I came the Ladies smil'd;
This call'd me Pug — and t'other Child:
To please and to address the Fair,
Was all my Business and my Care;
But now my Gold began to fly,
And sure Destruction hover'd nigh:
At last to  was I led,
From whence the struggling Spirit fled.