Estimate of Pleasure

Pleasures moving human mind, Are of mix'd uncertain kind; Sometimes much on fate depends, Sometimes fancy marrs or mends. Treach'ry, dress'd like Truth, prepares For the feeling heart her snares; Folly, wearing Friendship's guise, Lends her ears to Slander's lies. What is merit's great reward, Save a cold or rough regard? What does life itself imply, Since all things that live must die?