Sonnet: To give o're Riming, and fall to Business

AS I one Day did of my Fate complain,
And to Loves Charge the great Occasion laid,
Recounting all the Ways I had assay'd
A Name, or Fortune in the World to gain,
And still to' obtain it strive, but all in vain.
Ah! sottish Wretch, with Rage and Scorn, he said,
Me with Thy Artless Follies to upbraid,
When Thou alone art cause of all Thy Pain.
Go, and to Business, Man Thy self present,
Business, the noblest Mistress tho 'it be late,
Who many Servants has, and more will take,
Riming and Modesty ne're got Estate,
Or Name, or Fortune, 'tis the Confident
And Busie carry' all.—Love I did mistake.