A Time for All Things

ALL things have their Time by the Hebrew King's rule;
What pity a Wise Man wou'd e'er play the Fool.
Yet weak was that Sage, who when long past his prime,
Attempted with beautiful Girls to keep Time.
All was Vanity then, and Vexation his text,
To be sure he was vain, and his women were vex'd.

On his own Times how wisely King Solomon spoke,
But Wisdom, in our Times, is rather a Joke.
Who's to blame? 'tis not clear, whether we or our guides,
But equally things are ill-timed on all sides.
Like Witlings, who sacrifice all to their fun,
We our errors enjoy, and rejoice we're undone.

There's a Time to be right, for some Time we've been wrong;
There's a Time for a Speech, and a Time for a Song.—
As to Song-making, somebody told me the way,
Since I nothing cou'd do, how I something shou'd say.
A wish still to do, has my doings out-sped,
And all I have left, alas! lumbers my Head.

Superannuate Socials, like me, leave the Lass,
Pursue the sole sport which we're fit for,—the Glass.
Be not bubbled by self, nor by Flattery's dupes,
Nor attempt at Intrigue when Ability droops.
At impotent Keepers we've pointed with scorn,
Avoid the same vice,—be not laugh'd at in turn.

Turn'd the corner of Forty, 'tis Time to give way;—
But Women to Wine change, and still we've our Day.
Doctor Bibbibus says, whether Flask or Scotch Pint,
As Oil to the Head, Wine the Soul will annoint.
Embrace then the Bottles, hug closely your Quarts;—
May we have in our Arms what we love in our Hearts.