Love a woman? You’re an ass. | |
’Tis a most insipid passion | |
To choose out for your happiness | |
The idlest part of God’s creation. | |
5 | Let the proter and the groom, |
Things designed for dirty slaves, | |
Drudge in fair Aurelia’s womb | |
To get supplies for age and graves. | |
| 10 | Henceforth every night to sit |
With my lewd, well-natured friend, | |
Drinking to engender wit. | |
Then give me health, wealth, mirth, and wine, | |
And if busy Love intrenches, | |
| 15 | There’s a sweet, soft page of mine |
Does the trick worth forty wenches. |