No More Learning

A little meat best fits a little belly,
As sweetly, lady, give me leave to tell ye,
This little pipkin fits this little jelly.


734. UPON THE ROSES IN JULIA'S BOSOM.

Thrice happy roses, so much grac'd to have
Within the bosom of my love your grave.
Die when ye will, your sepulchre is known,
Your grave her bosom is, the lawn the stone.


735. MAIDS' NAYS ARE NOTHING.

Maids' nays are nothing, they are shy
But to desire what they deny.


736. THE SMELL OF THE SACRIFICE.

The gods require the thighs
Of beeves for sacrifice;
Which roasted, we the steam
Must sacrifice to them,
Who though they do not eat,
Yet love the smell of meat.


737. LOVERS: HOW THEY COME AND PART.

A gyges' ring they bear about them still,
To be, and not seen when and where they will.
They tread on clouds, and though they sometimes fall,
They fall like dew, but make no noise at all.
So silently they one to th' other come,
As colours steal into the pear or plum,
And air-like, leave no pression to be seen
Where'er they met or parting place has been.

_Gyges' ring_, which made the wearer invisible.


738. TO WOMEN, TO HIDE THEIR TEETH IF THEY BE ROTTEN OR RUSTY.

Close keep your lips, if that you mean
To be accounted inside clean:
For if you cleave them we shall see
There in your teeth much leprosy.


739. IN PRAISE OF WOMEN.

O Jupiter, should I speak ill
Of woman-kind, first die I will;
Since that I know, 'mong all the rest
Of creatures, woman is the best.


740. THE APRON OF FLOWERS.

To gather flowers Sappha went,
And homeward she did bring
Within her lawny continent
The treasure of the spring.

She smiling blush'd, and blushing smil'd,
And sweetly blushing thus,
She look'd as she'd been got with child
By young Favonius.

Her apron gave, as she did pass,
An odour more divine,
More pleasing, too, than ever was
The lap of Proserpine.

_Continent_, anything that holds, here the bosom of her dress.


741. THE CANDOUR OF JULIA'S TEETH.