A VVord in Season: OR, Now or Never.
Tis ne'r too late to be advised well
Regard it then you Beauties that excel
Both in external and internal parts
And do not triumph over Captive hearts:
Least you ingrateful being left to time
Bereft of Charmes, be punisht that black Crime.
A pleasant new Tune, of Sweet use-your time, &c.
SWeet use your time, abuse your time
no longer, but be wise,
Your Lovers now discover you,
have Beauty to be priz'd;
But if you'r coy you'l lofe the joy,
so curst will be the fate;
The Flower will fade, you'l die a Maid,
and mourn your Chance too late.
At Thirteen years, and Fourteen years,
a Virgins Heart may range;
Twixt Fifteen years and Fifty years,
you'l find a wondrous change.
Then whilst in Tune, in
May or
June,
let Love and Youth agree;
For if you stay till Christmas day
the Devil shall wooe for me.
For then Loves fire it will expire,
and Beauty he no more;
You of each Charm Love will disarm,
though now, 'tis true, you've store.
O then be wise, and be not nice,
lest coyness does undoe you:
Those Blushes hide that have defy'd
the passions that pursue you.
Away with folly, come be jolly,
shame not your Creation,
For we were made in love to trade,
Love is our cheif Vocation.
Time is hasting, Beauty's wasting,
grasp the happy moment;
Do not shun and be undone,
rashly be not so bent.
The blushing Rose, your Cheeks disclose
and Lillyes that are blooming,
Though fragrant now to time must bow,
which all things is consuming,
Each windy blast does Beauty wast
which gone your hopes are lost
Then don't disdain a Lovers flame
least you at last are crost.
Proud Beauties still do want their will
when kind ones have content
Tis fate does blind th'ambitious mind
and makes it oft repent:
Your Virgin-prime then use in time
send bashful fear away
Let not a blush destroy your wish
but Loves loud call obey.
Least the youth to tell you truth
grows angry by delay,
And you are forc'd to be divorc'd
from pleasures many a day
You are deceived if tis believed
'tis alwayes in your power
To be beloved, which many 'ave proved
in an unlucky hour.
For cruelty makes passion dye
ambition is its grave
Like wandring fires, it still retires
whilst you your selves deceive,
With hopes your chaine does strong remain
with which you link'd our hearts
But it does prove too weak for Love
when scornd for its deserts.
Open your eyes then and he wise
[...] happy
[...]e
If joyes you'd tast that never wast
let youth and Love agree
Tis past dispute, age does not suite
with Love, nor can it strive
With due desire to rouse that fire
which keeps the word alive.
Then use your time pass not your prime
but with inchanting smiles
And killing eyes our heart surprise
but taken in your toiles,
Be full as free to Love as we
to make your bliss compleat
Then joyes will flow which those ne'r know
who coyly make retreat.
Printed for J. Wright, J. Clark, W. Thackery, and T. Pass [...]nger.