Epigram 11. To Mr. Richard Grey of Adderston, my worthy kinsman

Sir, you Platonicks do defend too much,
And I guess talking so may make you such:
Yet 'tis not in your nature, I suppose;
For something you may love besides their clothes,
Their conversation, and their vertues in
The tender female Sexe: but you have been
So long a champion for Platonick love,
That you conceit it a disgrace to move
From your aerial tenents; pray you leave
This argument, and all their hopes deceive,
That gape after your wealth when you are gone;
Marry a wife, and leave it to your own.
But (if your humour you resolve shall last)
Make me your heir, and all my trouble's past.