In Answer of Sir John Suckling's Verses

The virtuous joys thou hast, thou wouldst should stillLast in their pride; and wouldst not take it illIf rudely from sweet dreams, and for a toy,Thou waked; he wakes himself that does enjoy.

How can the joy, or hope, which you allowBe styled virtuous, and the end not so?Talk in your sleep, and shadows still admire!'Tis true, he wakes that feels this real fire;But--to sleep better; for whoe'er drinks deepOf this Nepenthe, rocks himself asleep.

Fruition adds no new wealth, but destroys,And while it pleaseth much, yet still it cloys.Who thinks he should be happier made for that,As reasonably might hope he might grow fatBy eating to a surfeit; this once past,What relishes? even kisses lose their taste.

Blessings may be repeated while they cloy;But shall we starve, 'cause surfeitings destroy?And if fruition did the taste impairOf kisses, why should yonder happy pair,Whose joys just Hymen warrants all the night,Consume the day, too, in this less delight?

Urge not 'tis necessary; alas! we knowThe homeliest thing that mankind does is so.The world is of a large extent we see,And must be peopled; children there must be:So must bread too; but since there are enowBorn to that drudgery, what need we plough?

I need not plough, since what the stooping hineGets of my pregnant land must all be mine;But in this nobler tillage 'tis not so;For when Anchises did fair Venus know,What interest had poor Vulcan in the boy,Famous Aeneas, or the present joy?

Women enjoy'd, whate'er before they've been,Are like romances read, or scenes once seen;Fruition dulls or spoils the play much moreThan if one read, or knew the plot before.

Plays and romances read and seen, do fallIn our opinions; yet not seen at all,Whom would they please? To an heroic taleWould you not listen, lest it should grow stale?

And as in prospects we are there pleased most,Where something keeps the eye from being lost,And leaves us room to guess; so here, restraintHolds up delight, that with excess would faint.

Restraint preserves the pleasure we have got,But he ne'er has it that enjoys it not.In goodly prospects, who contracts the space,Or takes not all the bounty of the place?We wish remov'd what standeth in our light,And nature blame for limiting our sight;Where you stand wisely winking, that the viewOf the fair prospect may be always new.