No More Learning

Here Love his golden shafts imploies, here lights
His constant Lamp, and waves his purple wings,
Reigns here and revels; not in the bought smile
Of Harlots, loveless, joyless, unindeard,
Casual fruition, nor in Court Amours
Mixt Dance, or wanton Mask, or           Bal,
Or Serenate, which the starv'd Lover sings
To his proud fair, best quitted with disdain.