I POOR heart, retire! Her looks deceive thee; Soothe not thy desire With hopes she'll receive thee: Thyself never flatter; Her smile was no call; 'Las! there's no such matter, She looks thus on all. Meant sh' aught by her smiling (poor heart, credit me) She'd frown on thy rivals; she'd smile but on thee. II Thy flames extinguish, No more them feeding: Learn, learn to distinguish 'Twixt love and good breeding. Fair words are in fashion, Thou must not them mind; She spoke not with passion, To all she's as kind. Meant sh' aught by those fair words (poor heart, credit me) She'd speak that dear language to none but to thee. III Perhaps she granted Some few faint kisses; But ever they wanted That which makes them blisses. A kiss has no savour, If love don't it own, I count it no favour 'Less I kiss alone. No kindness obliges (poor heart, credit me) When t'others it's granted, as well as to thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY GARDEN by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN INSCRIPTION FOR THE ENTRANCE TO A WOOD by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT ON THE BUST OF HELEN BY CANOVA by GEORGE GORDON BYRON A SUN-DAY HYMN [OR LAMENT] by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES ON SEEING THE ELGIN MARBLES by JOHN KEATS SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 37. NAPOLEON AT ST. HELENA by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |