Thus the Extravagant squanders his Estate, Scarce e'er Consid'ring till it be too late: And then a _Wife_ must Cure the dang'rous Sore, A _Fortune_ too, his _Acres_ must Restore; The Woman Found, is by Addresses won; They're _married_: He's _profuse_, and she's _undone_. The Wound once heal'd, he soon forgets the Pain, And takes the Trade of _Lewdness_ up again: In Vicious Days and Nights his Life is spent; The _Pleasure_ his, but her's the _Punishment_; For now the Heav'n she Dreamt of, proves her Hell, Whose only _Fault_ was Loving him too well. Pensive all Day she sits; all Night alone; She does her slighted Love, but more his Loss bemoan. By kind Endearments Fraught with Innocence, She strives to soften his Impenitence; Fain wou'd she turn him from the winding Maze, Win him to Love, and be the same he was; But Vain her Sighs; her Prayers, her Tears are Vain, } She might as soon her _Freedom_ re-obtain, } As think to Mollifie th' obdurate Man. } Who like her Person, slights the fond Advice, } And when with Love she wou'd his Soul Entice, } Flies from her Arms, and Revels in his Vice; } Till she, alas, foreseeing what must come, Consents, and with the little left he packs her home. Of such I give thee Caution to beware, } Fly 'em, _Melissa_, like a Tim'rous Hare, } That Strains along the Vales t'avoid the Hunters Snare. } And from a Soldier too, thy flight direct; In his Rough Arms, what can a Maid expect; Long Absent days, and tedious Widow'd Nights: Are those the Marriage Joys, the vasts Delights We promise to our selves, with him we Love? Or shall we else such Constant Creatures prove, To leave our Country, and turn Fugitive: Follow the Camp, and with the Wanderer Live. 'Mongst War-like sounds our softer hours to pass, Scorch in the Sun, and Sleep upon the Grass: No, no, _Melissa_, 'tis an Auxious Life; Honour's his Mistress; let it be his Wife. No Man of Bus'ness let thy Heart approve; Bus'ness is oft an Enemy to Love: Nor think, my Dear, thou canst be truly blest With one that's _Wedded_ to his Interest. Worldly Affairs does his Affections cloy, _As that which shou'd preserve it, does destroy._ 'Twixt two Extreams you wretchedly must Live, Or bad, or worse, as his Affairs do Thrive; Whose good or ill Success, must be the Rule, One makes him Insolent, and t'other Dull.