Classic Poem

Women, what are they, changing weather-cocks,
That smallest puffes of lust haue power to turne,
Women what are they, vertues stumbling blockes,
Whereat weake fooles doe fall, the wiser spurne,
Wee men, what are wee, fooles and idle boies,
To spend our time in sporting with such toies.

Women what are they? trees whose outward rinde,
Makes shew for faire when inward hart is hollow:
Women what are they? beasts of Hiaenaes kinde,
That speak those fairst, wh├Á most they meane to swallow:
We men what are wee? fooles and idle boies,
To spend our time in sporting with such toies.

Women what are they? rocks vpon the coast,
Where on we suffer shipwracke at our landing:
Women what are they? patient creatures most,
That rather yeld the striue gainst ought withstãding
We men what are wee? fooles and idle boies,
To spend our time in sporting with such toies.