The Works of Sir John Suckling in prose and verse/Verses

by John Suckling

VERSES

I am confirm'd a woman can
Love this, or that, or any other man!
This day she's melting hot;
To-morrow swears she knows you not;

If she but a new object find,5
Then straight she's of another mind.
⁠Then hang me, Ladies, at your door,
⁠If e'er I doat upon you more!

Yet still I love the fairsome (why?
For nothing but to please my eye);10
And so the fat and soft-skinn'd dame
I'll flatter to appease my flame:
For she that's musical I'll long,
When I am sad, to sing a song.
⁠Then hang me, Ladies, at your door,15
⁠If e'er I doat upon you more!

I'll give my fancy leave to range
Through everywhere to find out change:
The black, the brown, the fair shall be
But objects of variety.20
I'll court you all to serve my turn,
But with such flames as shall not burn.
⁠Then hang me, Ladies, at your door,
⁠If e'er I doat upon you more!