Of what we lik'd before, and now possess; 70 But robs the fuel, and corrupts the spice Which sweetens and inflames Love's sacrifice, After fruition once, what is Desire But ashes kept warm by a dying fire? This is (if any) the Philosopher's Stone Which still miscarries at projection. For when the Heat _ad Octo_ intermits, It poorly takes us like Third Ague fits, Or must on embers as dull drugs infuse, Which we for med'cine not for pleasure use. 80 Since lovers' joys then leave so sick a taste, And soon as relish'd by the sense are past; They are but riddles sure, lost if possest, And therefore only in reversion best. For bate them expectation and delay, You take the most delightful scenes away. These two such rule within the fancy keep, As banquets apprehended in our sleep; After which pleasing trance next morn we wake Empty and angry at the night's mistake. 90 Give me long dreams and visions of content, Rather than pleasures in a minute spent. And since I know before, the shedding rose In that same instant doth her sweetness lose, Upon the virgin-stock still let her dwell For me, to feast my longings with her smell. Those are but counterfeits of joy at best, Which languish soon as brought unto the test. Nor can I hold it worth his pains who tries To in that harvest which by reaping dies. 100 Resolve me now what spirit hath delight, If by full feed you kill the appetite? That stomach healthi'st is, that ne'er was cloy'd, Why not that Love the best then, ne'er enjoy'd? Since nat'rally the blood, when tam'd or sated, Will cool so fast it leaves the object hated. Pleasures, like wonders, quickly lose their price When Reason or Experience makes us wise. To close my argument then. I dare say (And without Paradox) as well we may 110 Enjoy our Love and yet preserve Desire, As warm our hands by putting out the fire. [_Paradox. That Fruition, &c._] Put less tersely but perhaps better by Dryden's most original heroine, Doralice, in _Marriage à la Mode_, 'The only way to keep us true to each other is never to enjoy'. The notion is old enough, and several other seventeenth-century poets have treated it.] [Line: 22 Nobody has ever assigned a (to me, at least) plausible reason for this universal fancy of the seventeenth century about the jellification of shooting-stars. It is curious, but not inexplicable, that Browne does not touch it.] [Line: 31 King has very coolly turned the Pygmalion story upside down to suit his thesis.] [Line: 50 The talking and blushing turtle (i.e. dove) is another remarkable poetical licence.] [Line: 77 Heat _ad Octo_] An obviously alchemical phrase which I have not interpreted.]