Love is a game at tables where the dye <br />Of mayds affections doth by fancie fly: <br />If once you catch their fancie in a blott <br />It's tenne to one if then you enter not: <br />You being a gamester then may boldly venter, <br />And if you finde the point lye open enter: <br />But marke them well, for by false playing then, <br />Doe what you can they will be bearing men.<br /><br />William Strode<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-compared-to-a-game-of-tables/
