Song (“Love a Woman? You're an Ass”)
John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester
Commentary and a note on the text will follow. Note that this
is a reading text, with no pretense to being a critical
Love a woman? You're an ass.
’Tis a most insipid passion
To choose out for your happiness
The idlest part of God's creation.
Let the porter and the groom, 
Things designed for dirty slaves,
Drudge in fair Aurelia's womb
To get supplies for age and graves.
Farewell, woman! I intend
Henceforth every night to sit 
With my lewd, well-natured friend,
Drinking to engender wit.
Then give me health, wealth, mirth, and wine,
And if busy Love intrenches,
There's a sweet, soft page of mine 
Does the trick worth forty wenches.