A married Woman
WHen I shall marry, if I doe not find
A wife thus moulded, I'l create this mind:
Nor from her noble birth, nor ample dower,
Beauty, or wit, shall she derive a power
To prejudice my Right, but if she be
A subject born, she shall be so to me:
As to the soul the flesh, as Appetite
To reason is, which shall our wils unite
In habits so confirm'd, as no rough sway
Shall once appear, if she but learn t'obey.
For in habituall vertues, sense is wrought
To that calm temper, as the bodie's thought
To have nor blood, nor gall, if wild and rude
Passions of Lust, and Anger, are subdu'd;
When 'tis the fair obedience to the soul,
Doth in the birth those swelling Acts controul.
If I in murder steep my furious rage,
Or with Adult'ry my hot lust asswage,
Will it suffice to say my sense, the Beast
Provokt me to't? could I my soul devest,