Verses Addressed To A Lady

Of toil you say a moderate share
  In each pursuit should rise,
  Too much may make our hearts despair,
  Too little we despise:
  In every common case I own
  The justness of the thought,
  A fly may be too quickly won,
  The world too dearly bought.
  Not so in Love; his charms depend
  Upon himself alone,
  No foreign circumstance can lend
  A lustre to his throne: 
  Though gain'd without one care, his joys
  High-valued must remain,
  Are cheaply purchas'd when the prize
  Of Industry and care.