Fearing a short Imprisonment, my Friend,
You've chose in Durance your whole Life to spend.
To 'scape Confinement, and a Jail, by force,
You freely run into a Jail that's worse:
Wedlock, from Prison, is a curst Relief,
To 'scape a Jailer, but ensure a Wife!
The strictest, and most jealous Keeper, She,
From whose Controul Death only sets Thee free.
From Friends and Converse, forc'd thy self t' estrange,
While She to ev'ry Friend at Will must range
With Jailers Questions, still bars up your Way;
Where wou'd you go? And whom to see, I pray?
And if thou stir'st abroad, be sure that she,
To watch her Pris'ner, at thy Side will be.
Yet light the Mischief, if thou wert but so,
But, from a Pris'ner, thou a Slave must grow:
Toil in the Vineyard you too rashly chose,
Your Goods and Person all at her Dispose.
Thus like a Man by Surety-ship undone,
Thou'st sign'd a Bond t' have nothing of thy Own.
Confin'd without the Benefit of Bail,
In your own House, by Marriage made your Jail.
Nor is Imprisonment alone thy Fate,
Correction too attends the Nuptial State.
Constrain'd to Drudg'ry, each dull Husband beats
The Hemp of Wedlock in the Wedding Sheets;
And the gross Work of Love, in Form and Fear, repeats.
By Wedlock then thou art remov'd, not freed
From that Fleet -Prison thou so much did'st dread,
To the damn'd Durance of the Marriage Bed;
Seiz'd by that Church-Writ, they a Licence call,
Which does all Ranks of Men for Life enthral.
Unhappy Wretch! that thinking to be free,
Hast damn'd thy self to lasting Custody
So tim'rous Fools the Fear of Death to shun,
Rashly into his cold Embraces run.
Yet dying so, they 'scape the Pain of Life;
Your Cure sums up its Torments in a Wife.
But Crouds, like you, have rashly bin undone;
And shunning Scylla on Charybdis run.