There never yet was woman made, Nor shall, but to be curs'd; And oh, that I, fond, should first, Of any lover, This truth at my own charge to other fools discover! You that have promis'd to yourselves Propriety in love, Know, women's hearts like straw do move; And what we call Their sympathy, is but love to jet in general. All mankind are alike to them; And though we iron find That never with a loadstone join'd, 'Tis not the iron's fault, It is because the loadstone yet was never brought. If, where a gentle bee hath fall'n, And labour'd to his power, A new succeeds not to that flower, But passes by, 'Tis to be thought, the gallant elsewhere loads his thigh. For still the flowers ready stand: One buzzes round about, One lights, and tastes, gets in, gets out; And all ways use them, Till all their sweets are gone, and all again refuse them. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FOR LAUREL AND HARDY ON MY WORKROOM WALL by DAVID WAGONER A FOREST HYMN by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT IN THE SHADOWS: 20 by DAVID GRAY (1838-1861) SONG: THE STRICKEN DEER by THOMAS MOORE TO THE UNKNOWN EROS: BOOK 1: 3. WINTER by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE SONNET: 146 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WHEN LET BY RAIN by EDWARD TAYLOR |