Damætas

In law an infant, and in years a boy,
In mind a slave to every vicious joy;
From every sense of shame and virtue wean’d,
In lies an adept, in deceit a fiend;
Versed in hypocrisy, while yet a child;

Fickle as wind, of inclinations wild;
Woman his dupe, his heedless friend a tool;
Old in the world, though scarcely broke from school;
Damaetas ran through all the maze of sin,
And found the goal, when others just begin:
Even still conflicting passions shake his soul,
And bid him drain the dregs of Pleasure’s bowl;

But, pall’d with vice, he breaks his former chain,
And what was once his bliss appears his bane.