Women are Books, and Men the Readers be,
Who sometimes in those Books Erratas see;
Yet oft the Reader’s raptur’d with each Line,
Fair Print and Paper fraught with Sense divine;
Tho’ some neglectful seldom care to read,
And faithful Wives no more than Bibles heed.
Are Women Books? says Hodge, then would mine were
An Almanack, to change her every Year.
If Time be of all Things the most precious, wasting Time must be, as Poor Richard says, the greatest Prodigality.