I AM confirm'd a woman can Love this, or that, or any other man: This day she's melting hot, To-morrow swears she knows you not; If she but a new object find, Then straight she's of another mind. Then hang me, ladies, at your door, If e'er I dote upon you more! Yet still I'll love the fairsome (why? For nothing but to please my eye); And so the fat and soft-skinn'd dame I'll flatter to appease my flame; For she that's musical I'll long, When I am sad, to sing a song; Then hang me, ladies, at your door, If e'er I dote upon you more! I'll give my fancy leave to range Through everywhere to find out change: The black, the brown, the fair shall be But objects of variety; I'll court you all to serve my turn, But with such flames as shall not burn. Then hang me, ladies, at your door, If e'er I dote upon you more! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOLY SONNET: ANNUNCIATION by JOHN DONNE THE WELFORD WEDDING by ELIZABETH FRANCES AMHERST FOR LACK OF GOLD by ADAM AUSTIN LINES TO HANNAH AND PHOEBE by BERNARD BARTON THE BIRTHPLACE OF DREAMS by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE |