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But hope not thou, in this vile age, to find
you may the fair defend; But, would you ward the blow, beware your
friend : Beware your brother, and your next of kin ; 860 But from
bosom-friend your care begin. Here I had ended, but experience finds, That sundry women are of fundry minds; With various crotchets fill'd, and hard to please : They therefore must be caught by various ways. All things are not produc'd in
866 This ground for wine is proper, that for oil. So 'tis in men, but more in womankind : Different in face, in manners, and in mind : But wife men shift their fails with
wind : As changeful Proteus vary'd oft his shape, 871 And did in fundry forms and figures 'scape ; A running stream, a standing tree became, A roaring lion, or a bleating lamb. Some fish with harpons, fome with darts are
struck, Some drawn with nets, fome hang upon
the hook :
So turn thyself; and imitating them,
Part of my task is done, and part to do : But here 'tis time to rest myself and you.
FOR mighty wars I thought to tune my lute,
Thus when with soaring wings I seek renown, Thou pluck'st my pinions, and I flutter down. Could I on such mean thoughts my Muse em
ploy, I want a mistress or a blooming boy. Thus I complain’d : his bow the stripling bent, And chose an arrow fit for his intent. 26 The shaft his purpose fatally pursues ; Now, poet, there's a subject for thy Muse. He said : too well, alas, he knows his trade; For in my breast a mortal wound he made. 30 Far hence, ye proud hexameters, remove, My verse is pac'd and trammel'd into love. With myrtle wreaths my thoughtful brows in
close, While in unequal verse I sing my woes.