The Maiden-head.
THou worst estate even of the sex that's worst,
Therefore by nature made at first
T'attend the weakness of our birth;
Slight outward Curtain to the nuptial Bed,
Thou cause to buildings not yet finished:
Who like the Center of the Earth
Dost heaviest things attract to thee,
Though thou a point imaginary be.
A thing God thought for mankind so unfit,
That his first blessing mind it;
Cold frozen nurse of fiercest fires,
Who like the parched plains of Africk sand,
(A sterel and a wild unlovely Land)
Art always scor••ht with hot desires,
Yet barren quite didst thou not bring
Monsters and Serpents sorth thy self to sting.
Thou that bewitchest men, while thou dost dwell
Like a close Conju••er in his Cell;
And fear'st the days discovering eye
No wonder 'tis at all that thou shouldst be
Such tedious and unpleasant company,
Who liv'st so melancholily;
Thou thing of subtil slippery kind,
Which Women lose and yet no man can find.
Although I think thou never found wilt be,
Yet I'me resolv'd to search for thee,
To search it self rewards the pains;
So though the Chymick his great secret miss;