by the Morning Light. }
Thus the Extravagant squanders his Estate,?Scarce e'er Consid'ring till it be too late:?And then a Wife must Cure the dang'rous Sore,?A Fortune_ too, his _Acres must Restore;?The Woman Found, is by Addresses won;?They're married_: He's _profuse_, and she's _undone.?The Wound once heal'd, he soon forgets the Pain,?And takes the Trade of Lewdness up again:?In Vicious Days and Nights his Life is spent;?The Pleasure_ his, but her's the _Punishment;?For now the Heav'n she Dreamt of, proves her Hell,?Whose only Fault was Loving him too well.?Pensive all Day she sits; all Night alone;?She does her slighted Love, but more his Loss bemoan.?By kind Endearments Fraught with Innocence,?She strives to soften his Impenitence;?Fain wou'd she turn him from the winding Maze,?Win him to Love, and be the same he was;?But Vain her Sighs; her Prayers, her Tears are Vain, }
She might as soon her Freedom re-obtain, }
As think to Mollifie th' obdurate Man. }
Who like her Person, slights the fond Advice, }?And when with Love she wou'd his Soul Entice, }?Flies from her Arms, and Revels in his Vice; }?Till she, alas, foreseeing what must come,?Consents, and with the little left he packs her home.
Of such I give thee Caution to beware, }
Fly 'em, Melissa, like a Tim'rous Hare, }
That Strains along the Vales t'avoid the Hunters Snare. }
And from a Soldier too, thy flight direct;?In his Rough Arms, what can a Maid expect;?Long Absent days, and tedious Widow'd Nights:?Are those the Marriage Joys, the vasts Delights?We promise to our selves, with him we Love??Or shall we else such Constant Creatures prove,?To leave our Country, and turn Fugitive:?Follow the Camp, and with the Wanderer Live.?'Mongst War-like sounds our softer hours to pass,?Scorch in the Sun, and Sleep upon the Grass:?No, no, Melissa, 'tis an Auxious Life;?Honour's his Mistress; let it be his Wife.
No Man of Bus'ness let thy Heart approve;?Bus'ness is oft an Enemy to Love:?Nor think, my Dear, thou canst be truly blest?With one that's Wedded to his Interest.?Worldly Affairs does his Affections cloy,?As that which shou'd preserve it, does destroy.?'Twixt two Extreams you wretchedly must Live,?Or bad, or worse, as his Affairs do Thrive;?Whose good or ill Success, must be the Rule,?One makes him Insolent, and t'other Dull.
Let no Aspiring Courtier be thy Choice;?Avoid in Courts, the Bustle and the Noise;?Where Vain Ambition hurries on the Mind,?And always leaves more solid Joys behind:?As when the Thrifty Clown, securely Blest,?His Barns_ with _Plenty_, with _Content_ his _Brest,?Possest with hopes of a long lost Estate,?In haste forsakes his humble harmless Seat.?With Bagg and Bundle, Trots it up to Town, }?There wildly Gapes, and wanders up and down, }?And's kept in Ignorance till he's undone. }?Some weighty Sums receiv'd for Corn_ and _Cheese,?Are Spent_ in _Treats_, and _Giv'n_ away in _Fees.?Mean while the Lawyer so well Acts his Part, }?With empty Pockets, and an Aking Heart, }?He sends him home again to Plow and Cart. }
So the Gay Youth does Lavish his Estate,?And bribes into the Favour of the Great;?Prefer'd he sits like Fortunes Darling Son,?To's Friends, and what he was, a Stranger grown;?Till soon some turn of a Revolving State,?Leaves him to Curse Ambition, and his Fate;?Threaten'd with Want, perhaps the Youngster Writes,?And Lives (or rather Starves Genteely) by his Wits.
Therefore, Melissa, Guard thee from surprize;?Let none of these betray thee, if thou'rt Wise;?Let not their Songs, nor Sighs, thy Soul Entice.?But if thou wou'dst be happy in thy Choice,?Above 'em all, a Gentleman prefer;?One free from Bus'ness, undisturb'd with Care;?Yet in the Publick Good (without Vile ends)?To serve his Country, and his Countries Friends:?Travel his Understanding shou'd improve;?For as it helps his Knowledge, 'twould his Love.?As to his Person, 'tis not to advise;?All Women see not with the self-same Eyes.?In that you might your own Opinion use,?Your Heart wou'd teach you; but were I to chuse,?He shou'd not be Effeminate or Proud,?(I hate the Man that is by Pride subdu'd).?In us I Grant a little Pride may be,?Much less a Crime (and may with Sense agree)?A Gift alone for our own Sex design'd,?To awe the loose Opinions of Mankind;?Who quickly else more Insolent wou'd grow:?'Tis Vertue's Guard, and Aids our Beauties too.
A Gay Appearance shou'd not make me err;?I wou'd the Beauties of the Mind prefer.?Among the Few, I'd have a Man of Sense,?Endu'd with Modesty and Temperance;?Not with a great, and yet a good Estate;?Not too much Learning, nor Illiterate,?And yet he shou'd (avoiding each extream)?Know more of
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