Tis Fate that flings the dice, And as she flings Of kings makes peasants, And of peasants kings. - John Dryden

Youth, beauty, graceful action seldom fail,
But common interest always will prevail.

So love with phantoms cheats our longing eyes,
Which hourly seeing never satisfies;
Our hands pull nothing from the parts they strain,
But wander o’er the lovely limbs in vain:
Nor when the youthful pair more closely join,
When hands in hands they lock, and thighs in thighs they twine,
Just in the raging foam of full desire,
When both press on, both murmur, both expire,
They gripe, they squeeze, their humid tongues they dart,
As each would force their way to t’other’s heart –
In vain; they only cruise about the coast,
For bodies cannot pierce, nor be in bodies lost.

Yet if a Poem have a Genius, it will force its own reception in the World.