A POEM
AGAINST
MARRIAGE;
Directed to that Inconsiderable Animal, calld Husband.
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HUsband! thou Dull unpittied Miscreant,
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Wedded to Noise, to Misery, and Want;
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Sold an Eternal Vassal for thy Life,
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Obliegd to Cherish, and to Heat a Wife:
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Drudge on till Fifty; at thy Own Expence
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Breath out thy Life in one Impertinence;
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Repeat thy loathd Embraces every Night,
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Prompted to Act, by Duty (not Delight:)
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Christen thy froward Bantling every Year,
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And carefully thy Spurious Issue Rear:
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Go once a Week to see the Brat at Nurse,
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And let the Young Imposter drein thy Purse:
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Hedge-Sparrow-like, what Cuckoos have begot
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Do thou maintain, Incorrigible Sott.
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O! I could curse the Pimp that could do less,
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Hes beneath Pitty, and beyond Redress:
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Pox on him! let him go; what can I say?
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Anethemas on him are Thrown away;
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The wretch is marryd, & has known the worst,
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And now his Blessing is, he cant be Curst.
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Marryd! O Hell and Furies! name it not,
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Hence, hence you Holy Cheats; a Plot, a Plot.
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Marriage is but a Licensd way to Sin,
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A Nooze to catch Religious Wood-cocks in:
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Or the Nick-name of some Malicious Friend,
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Begot in Hell to Prosecute Man-kind.
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Tis the Destroyer of our Peace and Health,
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Mispender of our precious Time and Wealth;
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The Enemy to Wit, Valour, Mirth, all
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That we can Vertuous, Good, or Pleasant call.
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By Day tis nothing but an endless Noise;
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By Night the Eccho of Forgotten Joys:
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Abroad the Sport and Wonder of the Crowd,
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At Home the hourly breach of what we vowd:
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In its Opium to our Lustful Rage,
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Which sleeps a while, and wakes again in Age.
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It heaps on all Men much (but useless) Care,
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Forthwith more Trouble, they less Happy are;
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It checks Youth, shortens life, & taints the mind,
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Our Sences pales, and strikes our Reason blind.
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Ye Gods! that Man by his own Slavish Law,
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Should on himself such Inconvenience draw:
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If we would Wiser Natures Laws Obey,
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Those chalk him out a far more pleasant way,
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She bids freely Look, Like, and Enjoy.
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Therefore when lusty Youth & Wine conspire
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To Flame the Blood unto a Generous Fire;
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We must not think the Gallant will Indure
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The Durient Raging of his Calenture:
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Nor always in his single Pleasures Burn,
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Tho Natures Hand-maid some time serves the turn:
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No, he must have a sprightly youthful Wench,
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In equal floods of Love, his flame to quench;
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One that will hold him in her Clasping Arm,
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And in that Circle all his Spirits Charm:
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That with New Motion, and unpractisd Art,
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Can raise his Soul, & then vein-snare his Heart.
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Hence springs the Noble, Fortunate, and Great,
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Always Begot in Passion, and in Heat:
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But the Dull Off-spring of the Marriage-Bed,
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What is it? but a Humane shape in Lead:
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A Sloathful Lump Ingenderd of all Ills,
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Begot like D--- against the Parents Wills.
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If it be Cuckoldizd, its Doubly Spoild,
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The Mothers Fears Intaild upon the Child.
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Thus whether Illegitimate, or Not,
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Cowards and Fools in Wedlock are Begot:
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Let no Enobled Soul himself Debase,
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By Lawful Ways to Dasterdize his Race;
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But if he must Pay Natures Debt in Kind,
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To check the growing Danger, let him find
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Some willing Female out; What tho she be
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The very Scum and Dregs of Infamy:
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Tho she be Linsey-Woolsey, Baud & Whore,
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Close-stool to Venus, Natures Common-shore,
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Impudence, Folly, Brandy, and Disease,
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The Sundays Crack for Suburb Prentices;
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What then? shes better then a Wife by half,
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And if thourt still Unmarryd, thou art safe.
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with whores thou canst but venture, what is lost
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May be Redeemd again with Care and Cost;
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But a Damnd Wife, Inevitable Fate,
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Destroys, Soul, Body, Credit, and Estate.
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