NOT, Celia, that I juster am Or better than the rest; For I would change each hour, like them, Were not my heart at rest. But I am tied to very thee By every thought I have Thy face I only care to see Thy heart I only crave. All that in woman is adored In thy dear self I find-- For the whole sex can but afford The handsome and the kind. Why then should I seek further store, And still make love anew? When change itself can give no more, 'Tis casy to be true. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER DIVORCE; FOR NAHID SARMAD by KAREN SWENSON THE TIDE OF FAITH by MARY ANN EVANS A WIFE IN LONDON by THOMAS HARDY THE SPIDER AND THE FLY by MARY HOWITT TIME TO RISE by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON AT THE FUNERAL OF A MINOR POET by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |