Your Trent is Lethe; that past, us you forget.
You doe not duties of Societies,
If from the'embrace of a lov'd wife you rise,
View your fat Beasts, stretch'd Barnes, and labour'd fields,
10Eate, play, ryde, take all joyes which all day yeelds,
And then againe to your embracements goe:
Some houres on us your frends, and some bestow
Upon your Muse, else both wee shall repent,
I that my love, she that her guifts on you are spent.
To Mr I. L. W: To M. I. L. 1633-69: To M. I. L. A18, N, TCC, TCD: To Mr T. L. O'F