WHY, cruel Creature, why so bent
To vex a tender Heart?
To Gold and Title you relent,
Love throws in vain his Dart.

Let glittering Fools in Courts be great,
For Pay let Armies move:
Beauty shou'd have no other Bait
But gentle Vows and Love.

If on those endless Charms you lay
The Value that's their Due,
Kings are themselves too poor to pay,
A thousand Worlds too few.

But if a Passion without Vice,
Without Disguise or Art,
Ah Celia! if true Love's your Price,
Behold it in my Heart.