Poems by J.C. ; with additions.

A young Man to an old Woman Courting him.

PEace Beldam Eve; surcease thy suit: There's no temptation in such fruit. No rotten Medlers, whilst there be Whole Orchards in Virginity. Thy stock is too much out of date For tender plants t' inoculate. A match with thee, thy bridegroom fears, VVould be thought Int'rest in his years; Which when compar'd to thine, become Odd money to thy Grandam summe. Can Wedlock know so great a curse As putting husbands out to Nurse? How Pond and Rivers would mistake, And cry new Almanacks for our sake? Time sure hath wheel'd about his year, December meeting Ianiveer. Th' Egyptian Serpent figures time, And stript, returns unto his Prime: If my affection thou would'st win, First cast thy Hieroglyphick skin. My modern lips know not (alack) The old Religion of thy smack. I count that primitive embrace, As out of fashion as thy face. And yet so long 'tis since thy fall, Thy Fornications Classicall.

Our sports wil differ: thou may'st play, Leero, and I Alphonso way. I'me no Translator; have no vein To turn a woman young again: Unlesse you'l grant the ••ailor's due, To see the forebodies be new: I love to wear cloaths that are flush. Not prefacing old rags with plush: Like Aldermen, or Monster-Sheriffs, With Canvas backs, and velvet sleeves. And just such discord there would be Betwixt thy Skeleton and me. Go study salve and Treacle, ply Your tenants leg, or his sore eye; Thus Matrons purchase credit, thank Six penni-worth of Mountebank. Or chew thy cood on some delight Thou takest in thy Eighty Eight. Or be but bedrid once, and then Thou'lt dream thy youthfull sins agen. But if thou needs wilt be my Spouse, First hearken, and attend my Vowes. "When AEtnas fires shall undergo "The penance of the Alps in snow, "When Sol at one blast of his horn "Posts from the Crab to Capricorn, "When th' Heavens shuffle all in one, "The Torrid with the Frozen Zone;

"When all these contradictions meet, "Then (Sybill) thou and I will greet. "For all these similies do hold "In my young heat and thy dull cold; "Then if a Feaver be so good "A Pimp, as to inflame thy bloud, Hymen shall twist thee, and thy Page The distinct Tropicks of mans age. Well (Madam time) be ever bald, I'le not thy Pery wig be call'd. I'le never be 'stead of a lover, An aged Chronicles new cover.