[Line: 100 in] Orig. 'inne' = 'get in'. Cf. _All's Well that Ends Well_, 1. iii, 'to in the crop'.] _The Change._ _El sabio muda conscio: El loco persevera._ We lov'd as friends now twenty years and more: Is't time or reason, think you, to give o'er? When, though two prenti'ships set Jacob free, I have not held my Rachel dear at three. Yet will I not your levity accuse; Continuance sometimes is the worse abuse. In judgement I might rather hold it strange, If, like the fleeting world, you did not change: Be it your wisdom therefore to retract, When perseverance oft is folly's act. 10 In pity I can think, that what you do Hath Justice in't, and some Religion too; For of all virtues Moral or Divine, We know, but Love, none must in Heaven shine: Well did you the presumption then foresee Of counterfeiting immortality: Since had you kept our loves too long alive, We might invade Heaven's prerogative; Or in our progress, like the Jews, comprise The Legend of an earthly Paradise. 20 Live happy, and more prosperous in the next. You have discharg'd your old friend by the text. Farewell, fair Shadow of a female faith, And let this be our friendship's Epitaph: Affection shares the frailty of our fate, When (like ourselves) 'tis old and out of date: 'Tis just all human loves their period have, When friends are frail and dropping to the grave. [_The Change._] This poem is almost less of a commonplace than any of King's, and the expression is vigorous. The nearest parallel I know to it is Crabbe's 'Natural Death of Love', and like that it has a curious, if not cheerful, ring of actuality. But the case is more unusual. The Spanish motto (rather dog-Spanish in original) means: 'The wise man changes consciously: the fool [or, rather, madman] perseveres.'] [Line: 22 by the text] = 'formally'? as it were, 'by the card'. Or perhaps with direct reference to the motto.] _To my Sister Anne King, who chid me in verse for being angry._ Dear Nan, I would not have thy counsel lost, Though I last night had twice so much been crost; Well is a passion to the market brought, When such a treasure of advice is bought With so much dross. And couldst thou me assure, Each vice of mine should meet with such a cure, I would sin oft, and on my guilty brow Wear every misperfection that I owe, Open and visible; I should not hide But bring my faults abroad: to hear thee chide 10 In such a note, and with a quill so sage, It passion tunes, and calms a tempest's rage.