Song of the inconstant Hylas — Out of Astrea

If one disdain me, then I fly
Her Cruelty, and her Disdain;
And e'er the Morning guild the Sky,
Another Mistriss do obtain.
They err who hope by force to move
A Womans Heart to like; or love.

It oft falls out that they, who in
Discretion seem us to despise,
Nourish a greater Fire within,
Although perhaps conceal'd it lies.
Which we, when once we quit our rooms,
Do kindle for the next that comes.

The faithful Fool that obstinate
Pursues a cruel Beauty's Love,
To him, and to his Truth ingrate
Idolater does he not prove?
That from his pow'rless, Idol, never
Receives a Med'cine for his Fever.

They say the unweary'd Lovers pains
By instance meet with good success;
For he by force his end obtains:
'Tis an odd method of Address,
To what Design so e're't relate,
Still, still to be importunate.

Do but observe the hourly Fears
Of your pretended faithful Lover,
Nothing but Sorrow, Sighs, and Tears,
You in his chearfull'st Looks discover;
As though the Lovers Sophistry
Were nothing but to whine, and cry.

Ought he by a Man's Name be styl'd,
[…]hat (losing th' Honor of a Man)
Whines for his Pepin, like a Child
Whipt and sent back to School again,
Or rather Fool that thinks amiss,
He loves, but knows not what Love is?

For my part, I'll decline this Folly,
By others harms (thank Fate) grown wise,
Such Dotage begets Melancholly,
I must profess Loves Liberties;
And never angry am at all
At them who me inconstamt call.