1. 'TIS true, I've lov'd already three or foure, And shall three or foure hundred more; I'le love each fair one that I see, 'Till I finde one at last that shall love Mee. 2. That shall my Canaan be, the fatall soile, That ends my wand'rings, and my toile, I'le settle there, and happy grow; The Country does with Milk and Honey flow. 3. The Needle trembles so, and turnes about, 'Till it the Northern Point find out: But constant then and fixt does prove, Fix'd, that his dearest Pole as soon may move. 4. Then may my Vessell torn and shipwrackte be, If it put forth again to Sea: It never more abroad shall rome, Though't could next voyage bring the Indies home. 5. But I must sweat in Love, and labour yet, 'Till I a Competency get. They're slothful fools who leave a Trade, 'Till they a moderate Fortune by't have made. 6. Variety I ask not; give me One To live perpetually upon. The person Love does to us fit, Like Manna, has the Taste of all in it. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEVEN TWILIGHTS: 5 by CONRAD AIKEN SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: EUGENE CARMAN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS JOE HILL LISTENS TO THE PRAYING by KENNETH PATCHEN A SATIRICAL ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A LATE FAMOUS GENERAL by JONATHAN SWIFT SPRING'S WOOING by NELLIE BRISTOW THE WANDERER: 3. IN ENGLAND: BABYLONIA by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |