[_The Departure._] The special title of this poem was not in Hannah's MS.] [Line: 6 largest] _MS._ 'larg_er_'.] [Line: 47 An irregular line of this kind (for it is practically an Alexandrine) is so very rare in King that one suspects an error, but Hannah notes no MS. variant. Many, perhaps most, contemporary poets would not have hesitated at 'serv'ce', which with 'I'd' adjusts the thing; but our Bishop is seldom rough and still seldomer licentious.] [Line: 53 this] _MS._ 'the'.] [Line: 56 Orig. 'plommets'.] _Paradox._ _That it is best for a Young Maid to marry an Old Man._ Fair one, why cannot you an old man love? He may as useful, and more constant prove. Experience shows you that maturer years Are a security against those fears Youth will expose you to; whose wild desire As it is hot, so 'tis as rash as fire. Mark how the blaze extinct in ashes lies, Leaving no brand nor embers when it dies Which might the flame renew: thus soon consumes Youth's wand'ring heat, and vanishes in fumes. 10 When age's riper love unapt to stray Through loose and giddy change of objects, may In your warm bosom like a cinder lie, Quick'ned and kindled by your sparkling eye. 'Tis not deni'd, there are extremes in both Which may the fancy move to like or loathe: Yet of the two you better shall endure To marry with the cramp than calenture. Who would in wisdom choose the Torrid Zone Therein to settle a plantation? 20 Merchants can tell you, those hot climes were made But at the longest for a three years' trade: And though the Indies cast the sweeter smell, Yet health and plenty do more Northward dwell; For where the raging sunbeams burn the earth, Her scorched mantle withers into dearth; Yet when that drought becomes the harvest's curse, Snow doth the tender corn most kindly nurse: Why now then woo you not some snowy head To take you in mere pity to his bed? 30 I doubt the harder task were to persuade Him to love you: for if what I have said In virgins as in vegetals holds true, He'll prove the better nurse to cherish you. Some men we know renown'd for wisdom grown By old records and antique medals shown; Why ought not women then be held most wise Who can produce living antiquities? Besides if care of that main happiness Your sex triumphs in, doth your thoughts possess, 40 I mean your beauty from decay to keep; No wash nor mask is like an old man's sleep. Young wives need never to be sunburnt fear, Who their old husbands for umbrellas wear: How russet looks an orchard on the hill To one that 's water'd by some neighb'ring drill? Are not the floated meadows ever seen To flourish soonest, and hold longest green? You may be sure no moist'ning lacks that bride, Who lies with winter thawing by her side.