Poem by Matthew Prior

Fatal Love

Poor Hal caught his death standing under a spout
Expecting till midnight when Nan would come out;
But fatal his patience, as cruel the dame,
And cursed was the weather that quench'd the man's flame.
Whoe'er thou art that reads these moral lines,
Make love at home, and go to bed betimes. 

1. An Extempore Invitation to the Earl of Oxford, Lord High Treasurer
2. To the Author of the Foregoing Pastoral - (Love and Friendship)
3. Written in an Ovid
4. Upon This Passage In Scaligeriana
5. An Ode - Presented to the King, on His Majesty's Arrival in Holland, after the Queen's Death

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