To his MISTRESS

Yes, all the World must sure agree, He who's secur'd of having Thee, Will be intirely blest; But 'twere in me too great a Wrong, To make one who has been so long My Queen, my Slave at last.

Nor ought those Things to be confin'd, That were for publick Good design'd; Could we in foolish Pride, Make the Sun always with us stay, Twou'd burn our Corn and Grass away, To starve the World Beside.

Let not the Thoughts of Parting fright, Two Souls which Passion does unite; For while our Love does last, Neither will strive to go away; And why the Devil should we stay, When once that Love is past?