A little Bin best fits a little Bread,
A little Garland fits a little Head,
As my small Stuff best fits my little Shed.
A little Hearth best fits a little Fire,
A little Chapel fits a little Quire,
As my small Bell best fits my little Spire.
A little Stream best fits a little Boat,
A little Lead best fits a little Float,
As my small Pipe best fits my little Note.
A little Meat best fits a little Belly,
As sweetly, lady, give me leave to tell ye,
This little Pipkin fits this little Jelly.
Robert Herrick [1591-1674]
CHIVALRY AT A DISCOUNT
Fair cousin mine! the golden days
Of old romance are over;
And minstrels now care naught for bays,
Nor damsels for a lover;
And hearts are cold, and lips are mute
That kindled once with passion,
And now we've neither lance nor lute,
And tilting's out of fashion.
Yet weeping Beauty mourns the time
When Love found words in flowers;
When softest test sighs were breathed in rhyme,
And sweetest songs in bowers;
Now wedlock is a sober thing—
No more of chains or forges!—
A plain young man—a plain gold ring—
The curate—and St. George's.
Then every cross-bow had a string,
And every heart a fetter;
And making love was quite the thing,
And making verses better;
And maiden-aunts were never seen,
And gallant beaux were plenty;
And lasses married at sixteen,
And died at one-and-twenty.