Loves Flattery.
Ladies, fly from Loves smooth Tale
Ladies, fly from Loves smooth Tale, Oaths steep'd in tears do oft prevaile:
Grief is Infectious, and the Air inflam'd with sighs will blast the Fair: Then stop your Ears when
Lovers cry, lest your selves weep when no lost Eye shall with a sorrowing tear repay that pity which you
cast away. Young men, fly when Beauty darts Am'rous glances at your hearts; the fixt mark
gives the Shooter aim, and Ladies looks have power to maim: Now 'twixt the Lips, now in their Eyes,
wrapt in a Kiss or Smile Love lies. Then fly betimes, for only they Conquer Love that run away.