Counsel

by Abraham Cowley

Ah! what advice can I receive!
  No, satisfy me first;
For who would physick-potions give
  To one that dies with thirst?

A little puff of breath, we find,
  Small fires can quench and kill;
But, when they're great, the adverse wind
  Does make them greater still.

Now whilst you speak, it moves me much,
  But straight I'm just the same;
Alas! th' effect must needs be such
  Of cutting through a flame.


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