Pleasures are ladies — some we court
To pass away an hour in sport:
We like them all for this or that,
For silence some, and some for chat;
For ev'ry one, as Cowley sings,
Or arrows yields, or bows, or strings.
But, after all this rambling life,
Each man must have his proper
You know my meaning — some
Felt, heard, or seen, or understood,
Will captivate the heart's affection,
And bring the rest into subjection.