Love, with idleness combined,
Will unhinge the tender mind:
But to few, to work and move,
Will exclude the force of love.
Blooming maids that would be married,
Must in virtue be unwearied;
Modesty a dower will raise,
And be a trumpet of their praise.
A cavalier will sport and play
With a damsel frank and gay;
But, when wedlock is his aim,
Choose a maid of sober fame.
Passion kindled in the breast,
By a stranger or a guest,
Enters with the rising sun,
And fleets before his race be run:
Love that comes so suddenly,
Ever on the wing to fly,
Neither can nor will impart
Strong impressions to the heart.
Pictures drawn on pictures, show
Strange confusion to the view:
Second beauty finds no base,
Where a first has taken place:
Then Dulcinea still shall reign
Without a rival or a stain;
Nor shall fate itself control
Her sway, or blot her from my soul:
Constancy, the lover's boast,
I'll maintain whate'er it cost:
This, my virtue will refine;
This will stamp my joys divine.