THINK not, 'caufe men flattering fay,
Y' are fresh as April-fweet as May;
Bright as is the morning star,
That you are fo; or though you are,
Be not therefore proud, and deem
All men unworthy your esteem:
For, being fo, you lose the pleasure
Of being fair, fince that rich treasure
Of rare beauty and sweet feature
Was beftow'd on you by nature
To be enjoy'd, and 'twere a fin
There to be scarce, where the hath been
So prodigal of her best graces :
Thus common beauties, and mean faces,
Shall have more paftime, and enjoy
The sport you lose by being coy.
Did the thing for which I fue
Only concern myself, not you;
Were men fo framed as they alone
Had all the pleasure, women none,
Then had you reason to be scant;
But, 'twere a madness not to grant
That which affords (if you confent)
To you, the giver, more content,
Than me, the beggar; oh then be
Kind to yourself if not to me:
Starve not yourself, because you may
Thereby make me pine away;
Nor let brittle beauty make
You your wifer thoughts forfake:
For that lovely face will fail :
Beauty's fweet, but beauty's frail;
"Tis fooner past, 'tis fooner done,
Than fummer's rain or winter's fun;
Moft fleeting, when it is most dear;
gone, while we but fay 'tis here.
Thefe curious locks, fo aptly twin'd,
Whofe every hair a foul doth bind,
Will change their auburn hue, and grow
White, and cold as winter's fnow.
That eye which now is Cupid's neft
Will prove his grave; and all the reft
Will follow; in the cheek, chin, nose,
Nor lily fhall be found, nor rofe.
And what will then become of all
Those whom you now feryants call?
Like swallows, when your fummer's done,
They'll fly, and feek some warmer fun.
Then wifely choose one to your friend,
Whofe love may (when your beauties end)
Remain ftill firm. Be provident,
And think before the fummer's spent
Of following winter. Like the ant
In plenty hoard for time of fcant.
Cull out amongst the multitude
Of lovers that feek to intrude
Into your favour, one that may
Love for an age, not for a day;
For, when the ftorms of time have moved
Waves on that cheek that was beloved;
When a fair lady's cheek is pined,
And yellow fpread where red once shined;
When beauty, youth, and all sweets leave her,
Love may return, but lovers never!
And old folks fay there are no pains
Like itch of love in aged veins.
Oh, love me then! and now begin it,
Let us not lofe this present minute;
For time and age will work that wrack,
Which time or age shall ne'er call back.
The snake each year fresh skin resumes,
And eagles change their aged plumes,
The faded rofe each spring receives
A fresh red tincture on her leaves;
But if your beauties once decay,
You never know a fecond May.
Oh then be wife, and whilst your season
Affords you days for fport, do reafon;
Spend not in vain your life's short hour,
But crop in time your beauty's flower,
Which will away, and doth together
Both bud and fade, both blow and wither.
Ir the quick spirits in your eye
Now languish, and anon muft die;
If every sweet, and every grace,
Muft fly from that forfaken face,
Then, Celia, let us reap our joys,
Ere time fuch goodly fruit deftroys.
Or, if that golden fleece muft grow
For ever, free from aged fnow;
If those bright funs must know no shade,
Nor your fresh beauties ever fade,
Then fear not, Celia, to bestow
What ftill being gather'd, ftill muft grow.
Thus, either Time his fickle brings
In vain, or else in vain his wings.
WHEN you the fun-burnt pilgrim fee, Fainting with thirst, hafte to the springs; Mark how, at first with bended knee,
He courts the chryftal nymphs, and flings His body to the earth, where he Proftrate adores the flowing deity.
But when his sweaty face is drench'd
In her cool waves; when from her sweet Bofom his burning thirft is quench'd,
He kicks her banks, and from the place,
That thus refresh'd him, moves with fullen pace.
So fhalt thou be defpis'd, fair maid,
When by the fated lover tafted; What firft he did with tears invade,
Shall afterwards with fcorn be wafted:
When all the virgin fprings grow dry,
When no fprings fhall be left, but in thine eye.
He that loves a rofy cheek,
Or a coral lip admires,
Or from star-like eyes doth feek
Fuel to maintain his fires;
As old time makes these decay,
So his flames must waste away.
But a fmooth and ftedfast mind,
Gentle thoughts, and calm defires,
Hearts with equal love combin'd,
Kindle never-dying fires;
Where these are not, I despise
Lovely cheeks, or lips, or eyes.
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