NOT, Celia, that I juster am Or better than the rest; For I would change each hour, like them, Were not my heart at rest. But I am tied to very thee By every thought I have Thy face I only care to see Thy heart I only crave. All that in woman is adored In thy dear self I find-- For the whole sex can but afford The handsome and the kind. Why then should I seek further store, And still make love anew? When change itself can give no more, 'Tis casy to be true. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HYMN FOR EPIPHANY by REGINALD HEBER BOUND NO'TH BLUES by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES THE RAVAGED VILLA by HERMAN MELVILLE ARIZONA SUMMER by ELEANOR BALDWIN AN ELEGY OF HENRY, PRINCE OF WALES by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) THE UNNAMED WOMEN: 1 by ELIZABETH RUNDELL CHARLES |