The art of love in two books. Written both to men and ladies. A new poem.

Iealousie.

LOve, like Religion, can no Rival brook; By this Device She shall be fastest took, She only waits that you should draw the Hook. Land, spar'd a while, returns the vaster Gain, The cleaving Earth, that gapes, and thirsts for Rain, Drinks greedier deep, when Showers fall again.

You may, you must, from Visits now desist, You shall be Charm'd, when charg'd from being mist. Long, long Experience this great Truth assures, Believing you some others, She grows yours. Money, nor Health, we value, while possest, But when once lost, oft have sad Sighs exprest, Could we again obtain, how much should we be blest! Thus 'tis with Love, the best, the dearest Wealth, The truest Blessing, and the sweetest Health. Thus, whilst vain coyness in the Virgin reigns, What most She values, She the most disdains. So will the peevish Child, that Toy despise, For which, when once hurl'd crosly down, he crys.

Observe my Rules, drawn from experienc'd skill, And go off Conquering, so to Conquer still.