Page:Hesperides Vol 2.djvu/132

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For which, my Charles, it is my pride to be
Not so much known, as to be lov'd of thee.
Long may I live so, and my wreath of bays
Be less another's laurel than thy praise.

948. WOMEN USELESS.

What need we marry women, when
Without their use we may have men,
And such as will in short time be
For murder fit, or mutiny?
As Cadmus once a new way found,
By throwing teeth into the ground;
From which poor seed, and rudely sown,
Sprung up a war-like nation:
So let us iron, silver, gold,
Brass, lead, or tin throw into th' mould;
And we shall see in little space
Rise up of men a fighting race.
If this can be, say then, what need
Have we of women or their seed?


949. LOVE IS A SYRUP.

Love is a syrup; and whoe'er we see
Sick and surcharg'd with this satiety,
Shall by this pleasing trespass quickly prove
There's loathsomeness e'en in the sweets of love.


950. LEAVEN.

Love is a leaven; and a loving kiss
The leaven of a loving sweetheart is.