DECEIV'D and undeceiv'd to be At once I seek with equal care, Wretched in the discovery, Happy if cozen'd still I were: Yet certain ill of ill hath less Than the mistrust of happiness. But if when I have reach'd my aim (That which I seek less worthy prove), Yet still my love remains the same, The subject not deserving love; I can no longer be excus'd, Now more in fault as less abus'd. Then let me flatter my desires, And doubt what I might know too sure, He that to cheat himself conspires, From falsehood doth his faith secure; In love uncertain to believe I am deceiv'd, doth undeceive. For if my life on doubt depend, And in distrust inconstant steer, If I essay the strife to end (When Ignorance were Wisdom here), All thy attempts how can I blame To work my death? I seek the same. |