Reflect on a man, do his actions in dreams,
But yet to his neighbor, the same the man seems.
For actions in dreams, the sins of the mind,
Do not happen outward barr'd actions in kind.
Our world, it is sep'rate from fancies of thought,
For daydreams of men usually come but to naught.
When virtuous stays the black sinner of night,
Lily-white will his hands be, when comes the first light.
For dreams are but dreams to be thought and forgot,
And come from these dreams, I say, ruin will not.
So dream your debauchery, dream your misdeed,
Regardless what you call your personal creed,
And revel in baseness, discard the day's rule,
But act ever on it, and you'll be the fool.
