Oh love! that stronger art than Wine, <br />Pleasing Delusion, Witchery divine, <br />Wont to be priz'd above all Wealth, <br />Disease that has more Joys than Health; <br />Though we blaspheme thee in our Pain, <br />And of Tyranny complain, <br />We are all better'd by thy Reign. <br /> <br />What Reason never can bestow, <br />We to this useful Passion owe: <br />Love wakes the dull from sluggish ease, <br />And learns a Clown the Art to please: <br />Humbles the Vain, kindles the Cold, <br />Makes Misers free, and Cowards bold; <br />And teaches airy Fops to think. <br /> <br />When full brute Appetite is fed, <br />And choakd the Glutton lies and dead; <br />Thou new Spirits dost dispense, <br />And fine'st the gross Delights of Sense. <br /> <br />Virtue's unconquerable Aid <br />That against Nature can persuade; <br />And makes a roving Mind retire <br />Within the Bounds of just Desire. <br />Chearer of Age, Youth's kind Unrest, <br />And half the Heaven of the blest!<br /><br />Aphra Behn<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/song-34/
