Classic and Contemporary Poetry
DORIS, by WILLIAM CONGREVE Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Doris, a nymph of riper age Last Line: To shine elsewhere of course. Subject(s): Flirtation | ||||||||
DORIS, a nymph of riper age, Has every grace and art A wise observer to engage, Or wound a heedless heart. Of native blush and rosy dye Time has her cheek bereft, Which makes the prudent nymph supply With paint th' injurious theft. Her sparkling eyes she still retains, And teeth in good repair, And her well-furnished front disdains To grace with borrowed hair. Of size, she is not short nor tall, And does to fat incline No more than what the French would call Aimable embonpoint. Farther her person to disclose I leavelet it suffice, She has few faults but what she knows, And can with skill disguise. She many lovers has refused, With many more complied, Which, like her clothes, when little used She always lays aside. She's one who looks with great contempt On each affected creature, Whose nicety would seem exempt From appetites of nature. She thinks they want or health or sense, Who want an inclination; And therefore never takes offence At him who pleads his passion. Whom she refuses she treats still With so much sweet behaviour, That her refusal, through her skill, Looks almost like a favour. Since she this softness can express To those whom she rejects, She must be very fond, you'll guess, Of such whom she affects. But here our Doris far outgoes All that her sex have done; She no regard for custom knows, Which reason bids her shun. By reason, her own reason's meant, Or, if you please, her will: For when this last is discontent, The first is served but ill. Peculiar therefore is her way; Whether by nature taught, I shall not undertake to say, Or by experience bought. But who o'er-night obtained her grace, She can next day disown, And stare upon the strange man's face As one she ne'er had known. So well she can the truth disguise, Such artful wonder frame, The lover or distrusts his eyes, Or thinks 'twas all a dream. Some censure this as lewd and low, Who are to bounty blind; For to forget what we bestow Bespeaks a noble mind. Doris our thanks nor asks nor needs, For all her favours done: From her love flows, as light proceeds Spontaneous from the sun. On one or other still her fires Display their genial force; And she, like Sol, alone retires To shine elsewhere of course. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VENTRILOQUISM by JOHN FREDERICK NIMS SNAP CHAT: MARRAKECH by TIMOTHY LIU THE LADY'S 'YES' by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |
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