Advice to Chloe.
Dear Chloe, while thus beyond measure
You treat me with doubts and distain
You rob all your youth of its pleasure
And hoard up an old age of pain :
Your Maxim that Love is still founded
On charms that will quickly decay
You'll find to be very ill grounded
When once you its Dictates obey.
The Love that from Beauty is drawn
By kindness you ought to improve;
Soft looks and gay Smiles are the Dawn,
Fruition's the Sun-shine of Love;
And tho the bright beams of your Eyes
Should be clouded, that now are so gay
And darkness possess all the skyes
Were ne're can forgett it was day.
Old Darby with Joan by his Side
You've often regarded with wonder;
He's Dropsicall, she is sore - eyed,
Yet they'r ever uneasy asunder:
Together they totter about
Or Sit in the Sun at the door,
And at night, when Old Darby's Pot's out
His Joan will not smoak a whiff more.
No Beauty or witt they possess
Their severall failings to smother;
Then, what are the Charms, can you guess
That make them so fond of each other?
’Tis the pleasing remembrance of youth
Th' Endearments which Youth did bestow
The thoughts of past pleasure and Truth
The best of our Blessings below.
These traces for ever will last,
No Sickness or Time can remove
For when Youth and Beauty are past
And Age brings the Winter of Love
A friendship insensibly grows
By reviews of such raptures as these
The Current of fondness stil flows
Which Decrepid Old Age cannot Freeze.