Behold the child, by Nature's kindly law,
Pleas'd with a rattle, tickled with a straw:
Some livelier plaything gives his youth delight,
A little louder, but as empty quite:
Scarfs, garters, gold, amuse his riper stage,
And beads and prayer books are the toys of age! Pleas'd with this bauble still, as that before;
Till tir'd he sleeps, and life's poor play is o'er.

An Essay on Man. Epistle II, l. 275