XIX.
What thing is Beauty? "Nature's dearest Minion!"
"The Snare of Youth! like the inconstant moon
Waxing and waning!" "Error of Opinion!"
"A Morning's Flower, that withereth ere noon!"
"A swelling Fruit! no sooner ripe, than rotten!"
"Which sickness makes forlorn, and time forgotten!"
XX.
The Spring of Youth, which now is in his prime;
Winter of Age, with hoary frosts shall nip!
Beauty shall then be made the prey of Time!
And sour Remorse, deceitful Pleasures whip!
Then, henceforth, let Discretion rule Desire!
And Reason quench the flame of Cupid's fire!
XXI.
O what a life was that sometime I led!
When Love with Passions did my peace encumber;
While, like a man neither alive nor dead,
I was rapt from myself, as one in slumber:
Whose idle senses, charmed with fond illusion,
Did nourish that which bred their own confusion.
XXII.
The child, for ever after, dreads the fire;
That once therewith by chance his finger burned.
Water of Time distilled doth cool Desire.
"And far he ran," they say, "that never turned."
After long storms, I see the port at last.
Farewell, Folly! For now my love is past!
XXIII.
Base servile thoughts of men, too much dejected,
That seek, and crouch, and kneel for women's grace!
Of whom, your pain and service is neglected;
Yourselves, despised; rivals, before your face!
The more you sue, the less you shall obtain!
The less you win, the more shall be your gain!