Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, A VALEDICTION, by CHARLES COTTON


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

A VALEDICTION, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: I go, I go, perfidious maid
Last Line: Thou should'st have been.
Subject(s): Love


I GO, I go, perfidious Maid,
Obeying thee, my froward Fate,
Whether forsaken or betray'd,
By scorn, or hate.

I go, th' exact'st professor of
Desire, in its diviner sense,
That ever in the school of Love
Did yet commence.

Cruel, and False, could'st thou find none
Amongst those fools thy eyes engrost,
But me to practise falsehood on,
That lov'd thee most.

I lov'd thee 'bove the day's bright eye,
Above mine own; who melting drop,
As oft, as opening they miss thee,
And 'bove my hope;

Till (by thy promise grown secure)
That hope was to assurance brought,
My faith was such, so chastely pure,
I doubted not

Thee, or thy vows, nor should I yet
(Such, False One, is my love's extreme)
Should'st thou now swear, the breath's so sweet
That utters them.

Ah, Syren! why did'st me entice,
To that unconstant Sea, thy love
That ebbs and flows so in a trice?
Was it to prove

The power of each attractive spell
Upon my fond enamour'd youth?
No: I must think of thee so well
Thou then spak'st truth.

Else amongst overweening boys,
Or dotards, thou had'st chosen one
Than me, methinks a fitter choice
To work upon.

Mine was no wither'd old man's suit;
Nor like a boy's just come from school,
Had'st thou been either deaf, or mute
I'd been no fool;

Faith! I was then, when I embrac'd
A false belief thy vows were true,
Or if they were, that they could last
A day or two.

Since I'd been told a woman's mind
Varies as oft, as April's face:
But I suppos'd thine more refin'd,
And so it was.

Till (sway'd by thy unruly blood)
Thou changed'st thy uncertain will,
And 'tis far worse to have been good,
Than to be ill.

Methinks thou'rt blemished in each part,
And so, or worse than others are,
Those eyes grown hollow as thy heart,
Which two suns were.

Thy cheeks are sunk, and thy smooth skin
Looks like a conquest now of Time,
Sure th' had'st an age to study in
For such a crime.

Th' art so transform'd, that I in thee,
(As 'tis a general loss) more grieve
Thy falling from thyself, than me
Fool to believe!

For I by this am taught to prize
The inward beauties of the breast,
'Bove all the gaieties of the eyes
Where treasons rest.

Whereas, grown black with this abuse
Offer'd to Love's commanding throne,
Thou may'st despair of an excuse,
And wish 't undone.

Farewell thou pretty brittle piece
Of fine-cut crystal, which once was
Of all my fortune, and my bliss
The only glass,

Now something else: but in its state
Of former lustre, fresh and green
My faith shall stand, to shew thee what
Thou should'st have been.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net