A THOUSAND martyrs I have made, All sacrificed to my desire, A thousand beauties have betray'd That languish in resistless fire: The untamed heart to hand I brought, And fix'd the wild and wand'ring thought. I never vow'd nor sigh'd in vain, But both, tho' false, were well received; The fair are pleased to give us pain, And what they wish is soon believed: And tho' I talk'd of wounds and smart, Love's pleasures only touch'd my heart. Alone the glory and the spoil I always laughing bore away; The triumphs without pain or toil, Without the hell the heaven of joy; And while I thus at random rove Despise the fools that whine for love. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AVE MARIA GRATIA PLENA by OSCAR WILDE LATE AUTUMN by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM SUNSET-MOOD by STANLEY E. BABB THE LAST LULLABY by HENRY BATAILLE THE SPHINX AT MOUNT AUBURN by CHARLOTTE FISKE BATES GOD'S HUMOR by GAMALIEL BRADFORD THE OUTCAST MOTHER by EMILY JANE BRONTE |