Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE TROPHY, by PHILIP AYRES



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THE TROPHY, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Now, now, my heart's my own again
Last Line: The more he naked seems, the more he's arm'd.
Subject(s): Victory; Doubt; Skepticism


Now, now, my heart's my own again,
The vict'ry's won, no more I'll grieve;
My mind's at peace, 'tis eased of pain
And now I shall with pleasure live.
Lovers from your IDOL fly,
He's the common ENEMY;
Let him flatter, let him smile,
All his drifts are to beguile:
His poison he distills,
By cunning ARTS,
Into our HEARTS,
And then with torment kills;
Trust not his deluding FACE,
Dang'rous is his kind embrace;
Believe not what you hear or see,
For He's made up of TREACHERY;
Nor be by TRICKS into his ambush charm'd,
The more HE naked seems, the more He's arm'd.





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