I LOV'D thee, faithless Man, and love thee still, Thou fatal object of my fond desires, And that which nourishes these amorous fires, Is Hope, by which I love against my will. Great was the passion thou didst late express, Yet scorn'st me now, whom long thou didst adore, Sporting with others, her thou mind'st no more, Whom thou hast call'd thy Heav'n and happiness. Think not by this, thy Lesbia thee invites, To spend thy years in dalliance and delights, 'Tis but to keep her faith in memory; But if to grieve my soul thou only strive, To thy reproach, and to my boast I'll live, A monument of thy INCONSTANCY. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A CHRISTMAS CAROL (1) by GILBERT KEITH CHESTERTON THIRTY EIGHT. ADDRESSED TO MRS. H -- Y. by CHARLOTTE SMITH THE HOUND OF HEAVEN by FRANCIS THOMPSON ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 8. ON LEAVING HOLLAND by MARK AKENSIDE WHY DRINK WINE by HENRY ALDRICH THE MODERN TIPPLING PHILOSOPHERS by JAMES HAY BEATTIE |