'T is woman that seduces all mankind; By her we first were taught the wheedling arts.
Can love be controll'd by advice?
Were I laid on Greenland's Coast, And in my Arms embrac'd my Lass; Warm amidst eternal Frost, Too soon the Half Year's Night would pass.
The fly that sips treacle is lost in the sweets.
Fair is the kingcup that in meadow blows, Fair is the daisy that beside her grows.
My lodging is on the cold ground, And hard, very hard, is my fare, But that which grieves me more Is the coldness of my dear.