Henry Fielding

“ Whose rambling heart in vain you would engage,
Cold to your fondness, it laments its chain,
And wanton longs to range the fields again.
But prudes, whose thoughts superior themes employ
Scorn the dull transports of a carnal joy:
With screw'd-up face, confess they suffer raptures,
And marry only to obey the Scriptures.
But if her constitution take the part
Of honest Nature 'gainst the wiles of art;
If she gives loose to love, she loves indeed ”

“ Hence should, I say, by her big taunts compell'd,
With Tallard taken, Yillars forc'd to yield,
And all the glories of great Blenheim's field.
While thus secure from what too frequent charms,
Small force against the rest your bosom arms.
Ill-nature, pride, or a malicious spleen,
To be abhorr'd, need only to be seen;
But to discover 'em may ask some art:
Women to lovers seldom faults impart.
She's more than woman, who can still conceal
Faults from a lover, who will watch her well. ”

“ With eager rivals keeps unequal pace:
But oh! no rival flatters like her glass.
There still she's sure a thousand charms to see,
A thousand times she more admires than he;
Then soon his dulness learns she to despise,
And thinks she's thrown away too rich a prize. ”

“ And oft laments the poor forsaken maid.
And say, what soul, that's not to slav'ry born,
Can bear the taunts, th' upbraidings, and the scorn,
Which women with their fortunes oft bestow?
Worse torments far than poverty can know. ”

“ And pay the bounteous female back with woe,
These are the worst of robbers in their wills,
Whom laws prevent from doing lesser ills.
Many who profit in a match intend,
Find themselves clearly losers in the end. ”