And such no Woman e'er can be:

No; they are all sophisticate."—Cowley.

Or as in these, where the first and last verse of the stanza consist of ten syllables,

"When Chance or cruel Bus'ness parts us two,

What do our Souls, I wonder, do?

While Sleep does our dull Bodies tie,

Methinks at Home they should not stay,

Content with Dreams, but boldly fly

Abroad, and meet each other half the way."—Cowley.

Or as in the following stanza, where the fourth and fifth verses rhyme to each other, and the third and sixth,