In all affections she concurreth still;
If now with man and wife to will and nill
The self same things, a note of concord be,
I know no couple better can agree.
To a Sempstress.
Oh, what bosom but must yield,
When, like Pallas, you advance,
With a thimble for your shield,
And a needle for your lance!
Fairest of the stitching train,