SPORT

Or, if they charge you, do not fear, Though they be better armed then you: It is but standing the first view, And then they yield. Nay, that they'll never do, They'll rather fallen upon the place Then suffer such disgrace. You are but Men at best, they say, And they from those never ran away. Sir, doubt him more of some surprise Upon your self. He hath his eyes. You are the noblest object here, And it's for you alone I fear: For here are Ladies, that would give A brave reward, to make Love live Well, all his life, for such a draught. And therefore, look to every shaft, The Wag's a Deacon in his Craft. Trust nothing that the Boy lets fallen, My Lords, he hath plots upon you all. A pensioner unto your wives, To keep you in uxorious gives, And so your sense to fascinate, To make you quit all thought of state, His amorous questious to debate. But, hear his Logic, he will prove There is no business, but to be in love. What, here to stand and kill the Flies? Alas, thy service they despise. One Beauty here, hath in her eyes, More shafts then from thy bow ere flew, Or that poor quiver knew. These Dams They needs not Love's, they have Nature's flames. Cupid, you must not point in Court, Where live so many of a sort. Of Harmony these learned their speech, The Graces did them footing teach, And, at the old Idalian bralls, They danced your Mother down, she calls. Young Bloods come on, And charge: Let every Man take one. These are fair wars, And will be carried without scars. Or if you do their gloves off strip, Or taste the nectar of the lip: See, so you temper your desires, For kisses, that ye suck not fires.