ADAM, well may we labour still to dress This Garden, still to tend Plant, Herb and Flour.

Our pleasant task enjoyn'd, but till more hands Aid us, the work under our labour grows, Luxurious by restraint; what we by day Lop overgrown, or prune, or prop, or bind, One night or two with wanton growth derides Tending to wilde.

Thou therefore now advise Or hear what to my mind first thoughts present, Let us divide our labours, thou where choice Leads thee, or where most needs, whether to wind The Woodbine round this Arbour, or direct The clasping Ivie where to climb, while I In yonder Spring of Roses intermixt With Myrtle, find what to redress till Noon: For while so near each other thus all day Our task we choose, what wonder if no near Looks intervene and smiles, or object new Casual discourse draw on, which intermits Our dayes work brought to little, though begun Early, and th' hour of Supper comes unearn'd.

To whom mild answer ADAM thus return'd.

Sole EVE, Associate sole, to me beyond Compare above all living Creatures deare, Well hast thou motion'd, wel thy thoughts imployd How we might best fulfill the work which here God hath assign'd us, nor of me shalt pass Unprais'd: for nothing lovelier can be found In woman, then to studie houshold good, And good workes in her Husband to promote.