The Resolute Courtier. 1658

PRethee say I or no;
If thou't not have me tell me so,
I cannot stay;
Nor will I wait upon
A smile, or frown.
If thou wilt have me say;
Then I am thine, or else I am mine own.

Be white or black; I hate
Dependence on a checker'd fate,
Let go, or hold;
Come either kiss or not;
Now to be hot,
And then again as cold,
Is a fantastick Fever you have got.

A tedious Wooe is base,
And worse by far than a long Grace:
For whilst we stay,
Our lingring spoils the Roast,
Or Stomach's lost;
Nor can, nor will I stay;
For if I sup not quickly, I will fast.

Whilst we are fresh, and stout,
And vigorous, let us to't:
Alas, what good
From wrinkled Man appears,
Gelded with years;
When his thin wheyish Blood,
Is far less comfortable than his Tears.