Classic Poem

AT HOUGHT on Gaming .

T O gild o'er Av'rice with a specious Name,
To suffer Torment while for Sport you Game,
Time to reverse, and Order to defie,
To make your Temper subject to a Die,
To curse your Fate for each unlucky Throw,
Your Reason, Sense, and Prudence to forego;
To call each Pow'r infernal to your Part,
To fit with anxious Eyes, and aching Heart,
Your Fortune, Time, and Health to throw away,
Is what our modern Men of Taste call Play.