AMONG the various Causes, that conspire
To cool our Love, and quench the friendly Fire,
Vile  assumes the greatest Pow'r,
A God which base ignoble Souls adore:
To pleasure him, a Tide of broken Vows
(Needful Libations!) on his Altar flows:
Yet, never satisfy'd, he craves for more;
And keeps his Votaries, in Plenty, poor:
Who worships him, will break the friendly Bands,
Whene'er the sordid, selfish God commands.