IN love's domain fine words are vain to speak, For without money as well plead in Greek; Were you the comeliest youth was ever born, Unless you paid, I wish I may be shorn If e'er your foot the stirrup safely seek, Though strongest oaths you swear from week to week, 'Yours are my goods, rents, self.' All vainly sworn Such words without hard cash, but move to scorn In love's domain. Success to win there is one only freak, Largely to let the flood of riches leak; Thus only is consent from women torn, From fair or dark, unless this charm adorn Your plea. You gain nor grace nor welcome eke In love's domain. |