Little And Loud.

You say, to me-wards your affection's strong;
Pray love me little, so you love me long.
Slowly goes far: the mean is best: desire,
Grown violent, does either die or tire.

Great men by small means oft are overthrown;
He's lord of thy life, who contemns his own.

Men say you're fair; and fair ye are, 'tis true;
But, hark! we praise the painter now, not you.

You say I love not, 'cause I do not play
Still with your curls, and kiss the time away.
You blame me, too, because I can't devise
Some sport, to please those babies in your eyes; -
By Love's religion, I must here confess it,
The most I love, when I the least express it.
Small griefs find tongues; full casks are ever found
To give, if any, yet but little sound.
Deep waters noiseless are; and this we know,
That chiding streams betray small depth below.
So when love speechless is, she doth express
A depth in love, and that depth bottomless.
Now, since my love is tongueless, know me such,
Who speak but little, 'cause I love so much.

To bread and water none is poor;
And having these, what need of more?
Though much from out the cess be spent,
Nature with little is content.

Learn this of me, where'er thy lot doth fall,
Short lot or not, to be content with all.