To CLORIS.

CLoris, you live ador'd by all,
And yet on none your favours fall.
A stranger Mistress ne're was known▪
You pay us all in Paying none.
We him of avarice accuse,
Who what he has does fear to use
But what disease of mind shall I
Call this thy hated penury?
Thou wilt not give out of a store,
Which no profuseness can make poor.
Misers, when dead, may make amends.
And in their Wills enrich their friends;
But when thou dy'st, thy Treasure dies,
And thou canst leave no Legacies.
What madness is it then to spare,
VVhen we want power to make an Heir?
Live, Cloris, then at the full rate,
Of thy great Beauty; and since Fate
To Love, and Youth, is so severe;
Enjoy'm freely while th'art here.
Some caution yet I'de have thee use,
Whene're thou dost a servant chuse.
We are not all for Lovers fit,
No more then Arms or Arts of Wit.
For Wisdom some respected are,
Some we see pow'rful at the Bar;
Some for Preferment waste their time
And the steep Hill of Honour climb;
Others of Love their business make,
In Love their whole diversion take.
Take one of those, for in one brest
Two passions live but ill at rest:
And even, of them, I'de have thee fly
All that take flame at every eye.
All those that light and faithless are,
All that dare more then think thee fai…
Take one of Love who nothing says,
And yet whom every word betrays.
Love in the cradle pretty shews,
And when't can speak unruly grows.