So all thofe falfe alarms of strife
Between the husband and the wife,
And little quarrels often prove
To be but new recruits of love;
When those who're always kind or coy,
In time must either tire or cloy.
Nor are their loudeft clamours more
Than as they're relish'd, sweet or four;

Like music, that proves bad or good,
According as 'tis understood.

In all amours a lover burns

905

910

With frowns, as well as fmiles, by turns;
And hearts have been as oft' with fullen, 915
As charming looks, furpris'd and stolen :
Then why should more bewitching clamour
Some lovers not as much enamour?
For difcords make the sweetest airs,

And curfes are a kind of pray'rs ;

920

Too flight alloys for all those grand
Felicities by marriage gain'd:

And what fecurity's too strong

To guard that gentle heart from wrong,
That to its friend is glad to pass
Itself away, and all it has,

And, like an anchorite, gives over

This world, for th' heav'n of a lover?

I grant, quoth she, there are some few Who take that course, and find it true;

935

But millions, whom the fame does fentence
To heav'n b' another way, repentance.
Love's arrows are but fhot at rovers,

Tho' all they hit they turn to lovers,
And all the weighty confequents
Depend upon more blind events

940

Than gamesters, when they play a set
With greatest cunning at piquet:

945

Put out with caution, but take in

They know not what, unsight, unseen.

For what do lovers, when they're faft
In one another's arms embrac'd,
But strive to plunder, and convey
Each other, like a prize, away?
To change the property of felves,
As fucking children are by elves?
And if they use their perfons fo,
What will they to their fortunes do?

950

955

Their fortunes! the perpetual aims
Of all their ecstasies and flames.

For when the money's on the book,

And all my worldly goods-but spoke,

960

The formal livery and seisin

That puts a lover in poffeffion;

To that alone the bridegroom 's wedded,
The bride a flam that's fuperfeded :

To that their faith is still made good,
And all the oaths to us they vow'd;
For when we once refign our pow'rs,
We've nothing left we can call ours:
Our money 's now become the miss
Of all your lives and services;
And we forfaken and postpon'd,

But bawds to what before we own'd:
Which, as it made y' at first gallant us,
So now hires others to fupplant us,

965

970

Until 'tis all turn'd out of doors,
As we had been, for new amours.
For what did ever heiress yet,
By being born to lordships get?
When, the more lady she's of manors,
She's but expos'd to more trepanners,
Pays for their projects and designs,
And for her own deftruction fines;

And does but tempt them with her riches,

To use her as the dev'l does witches,

Who takes it for a special grace,

To be their cully for a space,

That, when the time's expir'd, the drazels
For ever may become his vaffals:
So fhe, bewitch'd by rooks and spirits,
Betrays herself, and all sh' inherits;

Is bought and fold, like stolen goods,
By pimps, and matchmakers, and bawds;

975

980

985

990