Then we return'd to the delightful Grove,
Where  still disswaded me from Love.
You see, she cry'd, what Misery attends
On , and where too frequently it ends;
And let not that unweildy Passion sway
Your Soul, which none but whining Fools obey.
The Masculine, brave Spirit, scorns to own
That proud Usurper of my sacred Throne;
Nor with idolatrous Devotion pays
To the false God, or Sacrifice, or Praise.
The Syren's Musick, charms the Sailor's Ear,
But he is ruin'd if he stops to hear;
And if you listen,  harmonious Voice,
As much delights, as certainly destroys.
mix'd with  may have
A pleasant Taste but sends you to the Grave;
For tho' the Latent Poison may be still
A while, it very seldom fails to kill.
But who'd partake the Food of Gods to die
Within a Day, or live in Misery,
Who'd eat with Emperours, if o'er his Hea
A Poniard hung, but by a single Thread?
Banquets are extravagantly sweet,
And either kill, or surfeit all that eat;
Who, when the sated Appetite is tir'd,
Even loath the Thoughts of what they once admir'd.
You've promis'd , to forsake the Charms
Of , tho' she courts you to her Arms;
And sure I may your Resolution trust,
You'll never want Temptation, but be just:
Vows of this Nature, Youth, must not be broke,
You're always bound, tho' 'tis a gentle Yoke,
Would Men be Wise, and my Advice pursue;
Conquest would be small, his Triumphs few.
For Nothing can oppose his Tyranny,
With such a Prospect of Success as I:
Me he detests, and from my Presence flies,
Who know his Arts, and Stratagems despise;
By which he cancels mighty Wisdom's Rules
To make himself the Deity of Fools:
Him dully they Adore, him blindly Serve,
Some while they're Sots, and other while they Starve.
For those, who under his Wild Conduct go,
Either come Coxcombs, or he makes 'em so.
His Charms deprive, by their strange Influence,
The Brave of Courage, and the Wise of Sense;
In Vain Philosophy would set the Mind
At Liberty, if once by him Confin'd;
The Scholar's Learning, and the Poet's Wit
A while may Struggle, but at last Submit:
Well weigh'd Results, and Wise Conclusions seem
But empty Chat, Impertinence to him,
His Opiates seize so strongly on the Brain,
They make all Prudent Application Vain.
If therefore you resolve to Live at Ease,
To taste the Sweetness of Internal Peace:
Would not for Safety to a Battle fly,
Or chuse a Shipwreck, if afraid to Die,
Far from these pleasurable Shades remove,
And leave the Fond Inglorious Toil of