The vanity of shining in conversation is usually subversive of its own desires.
Figure to yourself what the year would sustain were the spring taken away: such a loss do they sustain who trifle in youth.
O ye whose years unfolding fair Are fresh with youth, and free from care, Should vice and indolence desire The garden of your souls to hire, No parleys hold-reject the suit, Nor let one seed the soil pollute. My child their first approach beware, With firmness break the insidious snare, Lest as the acorns grew and throve Into a sun-encircled grove, Thy sins, a dark o'ershadowing tree Shut out the light of Heaven from thee.
Fear is the white lipp'd sire Of subterfuge and treachery.
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