Thomas Shipman(1632—1680)

The Resolute Courtier

　　　　Prithee, say aye or no;

　　　If thou'lt not have me, tell me so;

　　　　　I cannot stay,

　　　　Nor will I wait upon

　　　　　A smile or frown.

　　　　　If thou will have me, say;

　　Then I am thine, or else I am mine own.

Be white or black; I hate

Dependence on a checkered fate;

Let go, or hold;

Come, either kiss or not:

Now to be hot,

And then again as cold,

Is a fantastic fever you have got.

A tedious woo is base,

And worse by far than a long grace:

For whilst we stay,

Our lingering spoils the roast,

Or stomach's lost;

Nor can, nor will I stay;

For if I sup not quickly, I will fast.

Whilst we are fresh and stout

And vigorous, let us to 't;

Alas, what good

From wrinkled man appears,

Gelded with years,

When his thin wheyish blood

Is far less comfortable than his tears?