Demades

How large a scope lends Damon to his moan, Wafting those treasures of his happy wit In registering his woeful woe-begone! Ah bend thy muse to matters far more fit! For time shall come when Phillis is interred, That Damon shall confess that he hath erred.

When nature's riches shall, by time dissolved, Call thee to see with more judicial eye How Phillis' beauties are to dust resolved, Thou then shalt ask thyself the reason why Thou wert so fond, since Phillis was so frail, To praise her gifts that should so quickly fail.

Have mercy on thyself, cease being idle, Let reason claim and gain of will his homage; Rein in these brain-sick thoughts with judgment's bridle, A short prevention helps a mighty domage. If Phillis love, love her, yet love her so That if she fly, thou may'st love's fire forego.

Play with the fire, yet die not in the flame; Show passions in thy words, but not in heart; Lest when thou think to bring thy thoughts in frame, Thou prove thyself a prisoner by thine art. Play with these babes of love, as apes with glasses, And put no trust in feathers, wind, or lasses.