BECAUSE I breathe not love to everie one, Nor do not use set colors for to weare, Nor nourish special locks of vowed haire, Nor give each speech a full point of a groane, -- The courtlie nymphs, acquainted with the moane Of them who on their lips Love's standard beare, "What! he?" say they of me. "Now I dare sweare He cannot love. No, no! let him alone." And think so still, -- if Stella know my minde. Profess, indeed, I do not Cupid's art; But you, faire maids, at length this true shall finde, -- That his right badge is but worne in the hearte. Dumb swans, not chattering pies, do lovers prove: They love indeed who quake to say they love. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: SIBYLLA'S DIRGE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE VOYAGE TO VINLAND: 3. GUDRIDA'S PROPHECY by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL BURNHAM-BEECHES by HENRY LUTTRELL TO MR. THOMAS SOUTHERNE, ON HIS BIRTHDAY, 1742 by ALEXANDER POPE GARDEN DAYS: 6. AUTUMN FIRES by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON |