Deluded swain, the pleasure The fickle Fair can give thee, Is but a fairy treasure, Thy hopes will soon deceive thee: The billows on the ocean, The breezes idly roaming, The cloud's uncertain motion, They are but types of Woman. O art thou not asham'd To doat upon a feature? If Man thou wouldst be nam'd, Despise the silly creature. Go, find an honest fellow, Good claret set before thee, Hold on till thou art mellow, And then to bed in glory! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LEFT-HANDED POEM by JAMES GALVIN DAT GAL O' MINE by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON DOMESDAY BOOK: GREGORY WENNER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: SHACK DYE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE AWAKENING by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |