flowers and wine,
And cakes divine,
To strike me I will tempt thee:
Which done; no more
I'll come before
Thee and thine altars empty.

947. TO HIS HONOURED AND MOST INGENIOUS FRIEND, MR. CHARLES COTTON.

For brave comportment, wit without offence,
Words fully flowing, yet of influence:
Thou art that man of men, the man alone,
Worthy the public admiration:
Who with thine own eyes read'st what we do write,
And giv'st our numbers euphony and weight;
Tell'st when a verse springs high, how understood
To be, or not, born of the royal blood.
What state above, what symmetry below,
Lines have, or should have, thou the best can'st show.
For which, my Charles, it is my pride to be
Not so much known, as to be lov'd of thee.
Long may I live so, and my wreath of bays
Be less another's laurel than thy praise.

948. WOMEN USELESS.

What need we marry women, when
Without their use we may have men,
And such as will in short time be
For murder fit, or mutiny?
As Cadmus once a new way found,
By throwing teeth into the ground;
From which poor seed, and rudely sown,
Sprung up a war-like nation:
So let us iron, silver, gold,
Brass, lead, or tin throw into th' mould;
And we shall see in little space
Rise up of men a fighting race.
If this can be, say then, what need
Have we of women or their seed?

949. LOVE IS A SYRUP.

Love is a syrup; and whoe'er we see
Sick and surcharg'd with this satiety,
Shall by this pleasing trespass quickly prove
_There's loathsomeness e'en in the sweets of love_.

950. LEAVEN.

Love is a leaven; and a loving kiss
The leaven of a loving sweetheart is.

951. REPLETION.

Physicians say repletion springs
More from the sweet than sour things.

952. ON HIMSELF.

Weep for the dead, for they have lost this light:
And weep for me, lost in an endless night.
Or mourn, or make a marble verse for me,
Who writ for many. Benedicite.

953. NO MAN WITHOUT MONEY.

No man such rare parts hath that he can swim,
If favour or occasion help not him.

954. ON HIMSELF.

Lost to the world; lost to myself; alone
Here now I rest under this marble stone:
In depth of silence, heard and seen of none.

955. TO M. LEONARD WILLAN, HIS PECULIAR FRIEND.

I will be short, and