Sir John Suckling|
STAY here, fond youth, and ask no more ; be wise :
Knowing too much long since lost paradise.
The virtuous joys thou hast, thou wouldst should still
Last in their pride ; and wouldst not take it ill,
If rudely from sweet dreams (and for a toy)
Thou wert wak't ? he wakes himself, that does enjoy.
Fruition adds no new wealth, but destroys,
And while it pleaseth much the palate, cloys ;
Who thinks he shall be happier for that,
As reasonably might hope he might grow fat
By eating to a surfeit ; this once past,
What relishes ? even kisses lose their taste.
Urge not 'tis necessary : alas ! we know
The homeliest thing which mankind does is so ;
The world is of a vast extent, we see,
And must be peopled ; children there must be ;
So must bread too ; but since they are enough
Born to the drudgery, what need we plough ?
Women enjoy'd (whate'er before th' have been)
Are like romances read, or sights once seen :
Fruition's dull, and spoils the play much more
Than if one read or knew the plot before.
'Tis expectation makes a blessing dear ;
Heaven were not heaven, if we knew what it were.
And as in prospects we are there pleas'd most,
Where something keeps the eye from being lost,
And leaves us room to guess ; so here restraint
Holds up delight, that with excess would faint.
They who know all the wealth they have, are poor,
He's only rich that cannot tell his store.
Suckling, John. The Works of Sir John Suckling. A. Hamilton Thompson, ed.
London: George Routledge & Sons, Ltd., 1910. 18.
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