Princes, who have, they say, no mind, but thought, Whose virtue is their pleasure, and their end, That kindness which in their hearts never wrought They like in others and will praise a friend. Cupid, who, people say, is bold with blindness, Free of excess, and enemy to measure, Yet glories in the reverence of kindness, In silent-trembling eloquence hath pleasure. Princes we comprehend, and can delight, We praise them for the good they never had; But Cupid's ways are far more infinite, Kisses at times, and court'sies make him glad; Then, Myra give me leave for Cupid's sake To kiss thee oft that I may court'sy make. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TREKKING THE HILLS OF NORTHERN THAILAND by KAREN SWENSON TAM I' THE KIRK by VIOLET JACOB |