Now has love wrought a fever in my veins And when I would be here, I would be there, And would I rest, no rest for me remains. This gown, or that, I know not what to wear. What, must I to love's tyranny confess? A pother on it all! I will not thus That love, who was my erstwhile friend, no less, Should me besiege with senses amorous. For this offense, I will inflict, I swear, Such wounds as he cannot in truth deny! I'll feign indifference, or he forbear, And weave the while a potent spell thereby Shall him disarm; then taken unaware, With his own weapons, will I love ensnare. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WORLD'S WAY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH GREEK POETESSES by ANTIPATER OF THESSALONICA WHITENESS, OR CHASTITY by JOSEPH BEAUMONT THE PURITAN by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH MARCH DAYS by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |