Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

A SONG, IN IMITATION OF SIR JOHN EATON by JOHN WILMOT

Poet Analysis

First Line: TOO LATE, ALAS! I MUST CONFESS
Last Line: BETRAY A TENDER STORY.
TOO late, alas! I must confess,
You need not arts to move me;
Such charms by nature you possess,
'Twere madness not to love ye.

Then spare a heart you may surprise,
And give my tongue the glory
To boast, though my ungrateful eyes
Betray a tender story.



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