Page:The works of Anne Bradstreet in prose and verse.djvu/231

 The Four Humours of Man. 145

A foolifli brain (quoth'" Choler) wanting heat [42]

But a mad one fay I, where 'tis too great,

Phrenfie's worfe then folly, one would more glad

With a tame fool converfe then with a mad;

For learning then my brain "^ is not the fitteft,

Nor will I yield^ that Choler is ^ the wittieft.

Thy judgement is unfafe, thy fancy little.

For memory the fand is not more brittle;

Again, none's fit for Kingly Hate'' but thou,

If Tyrants be the befl, I le it allow:

But if love be as requilite as fear,

Then thou and I muft make a mixture here.

Well to be brief, I hope now Cholers laid.

And I'le pafs by what Sifter fanguine faid.

To Melancholy I le make no reply,

The worft fhe faid was inftability.

And too much talk, both which I here confefs

A warning good, hereafter I'le fay lefs.

Let's now be friends; its time our fpight were fpent,

Left we too late this raftmefs do repent.

Such premifes will force a fad conclufion,

Unlefs we agree, all falls into confufion.

Let Sangine with her hot hand Choler hold,

To take her moift my moifture will be bold:

My cold, cold melancholy * hand ftiall clafp;

Her dry, dry Cholers other hand ftiall grafp.

f faith. ^ Then, mj head for learning.

y Ne're did I heare. « was.

" place. i> Melanchollies.

19

�� �