For foolish pastimes oft, full oft, they thee ignite,
I oft a pastime prove for tongues with folly rife;
By wasting of thyself thou yieldest others light,
And I in self same way must use my luckless life.
EPIGRAM ON HIMSELF
BY WESSEL
He ate, and drank, and slip-shod went,
Was ever grieving and misgiving;
For nothing fit, nor competent,
At last not even fit for living.
* * * * *
LONDON:
Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.
_Edition limited to Thirty Copies_.