MY love hath vowed he will forsake me, And I am already sped; Far other promise he did make me When he had my maidenhead. If such danger be in playing And sport must to earnest turn, I will go no more a-maying. Had I foreseen what is ensued, And what now with pain I prove, Unhappy then I had eschewed This unkind event of love: Maids foreknow their own undoing, But fear naught till all is done, When a man alone is wooing. Dissembling wretch, to gain thy pleasure, What didst thou not vow and swear? So didst thou rob me of the treasure Which so long I held so dear. Now thou provest to me a stranger: Such is the vile guise of men When a woman is in danger. That heart is nearest to misfortune That will trust a feigned tongue; When flatt'ring men our loves importune They intend us deepest wrong. If this shame of love's betraying But this once I cleanly shun, I will go no more a-maying. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THADDEUS STEVENS by PHOEBE CARY THE BELLS OF HEAVEN by RALPH HODGSON WHO WALKS WITH BEAUTY by DAVID MORTON THE SONG OF A TRAVELLER by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON ON THE MOOR by ROBERT ADAMSON (1832-) A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 14 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |