Man

Want is a softer wax, that takes thereon,
This, that, and every base impression,

Man is composed here of a twofold part;
The first of nature, and the next of art;
Art presupposes nature; nature, she
Prepares the way for man's docility.

Need is no vice at all, though here it be
With men a loathed inconveniency.

A just man's like a rock that turns the wrath
Of all the raging waves into a froth.

Love and the Graces evermore do wait
Upon the man that is a potentate.

Love he that will, it best likes me
To have my neck from love's yoke free.