Classic Poem

When I shall marry, if I do not find
A wife thus moulded, I'll create this mind:
Nor from her noble birth, nor ample dower,
Beauty, or wit, shall she derive a power
To prejudice my right; but if she be
A subject born, she shall be so to me.
As to the soul the flesh, as appetite
To reason is, which shall our wills unite,
In habits so confirm'd, as no rough sway
Shall once appear, if she but learns t' obey.
For in habitual virtues sense is wrought
To that calm temper, as the body's thought
To have nor blood nor gall, if wild and rude
Passions of lust and anger are subdued;
When 'tis the fair obedience to the soul
Doth in the birth those swelling acts control.
If I in murder steep my furious rage,
Or with adult'ry my hot lust assuage,
Will it suffice to say my sense, the beast,
Provoked me to 't? Could I my soul divest,
My plea were good. Lions and bulls commit
Both freely, but man must in judgment sit,
And tame this beast; for Adam was not free
When in excuse he said, Eve gave it me;
Had he not eaten, she perhaps had been
Unpunish'd: his consent made her's a sin.