Wit for the Ingenious, silence for the Grave,
Flatt'ry for the Fool, and Cunning for the Knave:
Compounded thus of such Varieties, }
She had a knack to every Temper please, }
And as her self thought fit was every one of these. }
I lov'd, I sigh'd and vow'd, talk'd, whin'd, and pray'd,
And at her Feet my panting Heart I lay'd;
She smil'd, then frown'd, was now reserv'd, then free,
And as she plaid her part, oft chang'd her Key;
Not through Fantastick Humour but Design,
To try me throughly e'er she should be mine,
Because she wanted in one Man to have,
A Husband, Lover, Cuckold and a Slave.
So Travellers, before a Horse they buy,
His Speed, his Paces, and his Temper try,
Whether he'll answer Whip and Spur, thence Judge,
If the poor Beast will prove a patient Drudge:
When she by wiles had heightned my Desire,
And fain'd Love's sparkles to a raging Fire;
Made now for Wedlock, or for _Bedlam_ fit.
Thus Passion gain'd the upper-hand of Wit,
The Dame by pity, or by Interest mov'd,
Or else by Lust, pretended now she lov'd;
After long-sufferings, her Consent I got. }
To make me happy, as I hop'd and thought, }
But oh, the wretched hour I ty'd the _Gordian_ Knot. }

Thus thro' mistake I rashly plung'd my Life
Into that Gulph of Miseries a Wife.
With joyful Arms I thus embrac'd my Fare,