Poetical recreations | ||
62
TO MY Young Lover ON HIS VOW.
I
Alas, why mad'st thou such a Vow,Which thou wilt never pay,
And promise that from very now,
Till everlasting day?
Thou mean'st to love, sigh, bleed, and dye,
And languish out thy breath,
In praise of my Divinity,
To th' minute of thy Death.
II
Sweet Youth, thou know'st not what it isTo be Love's Votary;
63
Kneel, beg, and sigh, and cry.
Probationer thou should'st be first,
That thereby thou may'st try,
Whether thou can'st endure the worst
Of Love's austerity.
III
For Worlds of Beauties always standTo tempt thy willing Eye,
And Troops of Lusts are at thy hand,
To vanquish thee, or dye.
And now this Vow exposes thee
To th' third (of all the worst)
The Devil of inconstancy,
That Tempter most accurs'd.
Poetical recreations | ||