When you Love, or speak of it,
Make no serious matter on't,
'Twill make but subject for her wit
And gain her scorn in lieu of Grant.
Sneeking, whining, dull Grimasses
Pale the Appetite, they'd move;
Only Boys and formal Asses
Thus are Ridicul'd by Love.
While you make a Mystery
Of your Love and awful flame;
Young and tender Hearts will fly,
Frighted at the very name;
Always brisk and gayly court,
Make Love your pleasure not your pain,
'Tis by wanton play and sport
Heedless Virgins you will gain.