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FROM HENRY VII. TO MARY.
A maid is so sweet, and so gentle of kind,
That a maid is the wife I will choose to my mind ;
A widow is froward, and never will yield ;
Or if such there be, you will meet them but seeld. [seldom]
A maid ne'er complaineth, do what so you will;
But what you mean well, a widow takes ill:
A widow will make you a drudge and a slave,
And cost ne'er so much, she will ever go brave, [gaily dress'd]
A maid is so modest, she seemeth a rose,
When first it beginneth the bud to unclose ;
But a widow full blowen, full often deceives,
And the next wind that bloweth shakes down all her leaves.
That widows be lovely I never gainsay, But too well all their beauty they know to display ; But a maid hath so great hidden beauty in store, She can spare to a widow, yet never be poor.
Then, if ever I marry, give me a fresh maid,
If to marry with'any I be not afraid;
But to marry with any it asketh much care,
And some bachelors hold they are best as they are.