These are th’ attracts which most men fall
Inamour’d, at first sight, withal 90
To these th’ address with serenades,
And court with balls and masquerades;
And yet, for all the yearning pain
Y’ have suffer’d for their loves in vain,
I fear they’ll prove so nice and coy 95
To have, and t’ hold and to enjoy
That all your oaths and labour lost,
They’ll ne’er turn ladies of the post. 
This is not meant to disapprove
Your judgment in your choice of love; 100
Which is so wise, the greatest part
Of mankind study ’t as an art;
For love shou’d, like a deodand,
Still fall to th’ owner of the land;
And where there’s substance for its ground, 105
Cannot but be more firm and sound
Than that which has the slightest basis
Of airy virtue, wit, and graces;
Which is of such thin subtlety,
It steals and creeps in at the eye, 110
And, as it can’t endure to stay,
Steals out again as nice a way.

But love, that its extraction owns
From solid gold and precious stones
Must, like its shining parents, prove 115
As solid and as glorious love. 
Hence ’tis you have no way t’express
Our charms and graces but by these: 
For what are lips, and eyes, and teeth,
Which beauty invades and conquers with, 120
But rubies, pearls, and diamonds,
With which a philter-love commands?

This is the way all parents prove,
In managing their childrens’ love;
That force ’em t’ intermarry and wed, 125
As if th’ were bur’ing of the dead;
Cast earth to earth, as in the grave,
To join in wedlock all they have: 
And when the settlement’s in force,
Take all the rest for better or worse; 130
For money has a power above
The stars and fate to manage love;
Whose arrows, learned poets hold,
That never miss, are tipp’d with gold. 
And though some say, the parents’ claims 135
To make love in their childrens’ names,
Who many times at once provide
The nurse, the husband, and the bride
Feel darts and charms, attracts and flames,
And woo and contract in their names; 140
And as they christen, use to marry ’em,
And, like their gossips, answer for ’em;
Is not to give in matrimony,
But sell and prostitute for money;
’Tis better than their own betrothing, 145
Who often do’t for worse than nothing;
And when th’ are at their own dispose,
With greater disadvantage choose. 
All this is right; but for the course
You take to do’t, by fraud or force, 150
’Tis so ridiculous, as soon
As told, ’tis never to be done;
No more than setters can betray,
That tell what tricks they are to play.