Spite of their spite which they in vain Do stick to force my fantasy, I am professed, for loss or gain, To be thine own assuredly. Who list thereat by spite to spurn, My fancy is too hard to turn. Although that some of busy wit Do babble still, yea, yea, what though? I have no fear nor will not flit As doth the water to and fro. Spite then their spite that list to spurn. My fancy is too hard to turn. Who is afraid? Yea, let him fly, For I full well shall bide the brunt. May grease their lips that list to lie Of busy brains, as is their wont, And yet against the prick they spurn. My fancy is too hard to turn. For I am set and will not swerve, Whose faithful speech removeth naught. And well I may thy grace deserve: I think it is not dearly bought And if they both do spite and spurn. My fancy is too hard to turn. Who list thereat to list or lour, I am not he that aught doth reach. There is no pain that hath the power Out of my breast this thought to seek. Then though they spite thereat and spurn, My fancy is too hard to turn. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FAREWELL TO LOVE by JOHN DONNE AN ANTE-BELLUM SERMON by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR LAST SONNET (REVISED VERSION) by JOHN KEATS EPIGRAM ON QUEEN CAROLINE'S DEATHBED by ALEXANDER POPE THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: DECEMBER by EDMUND SPENSER ETUDE REALISTE by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE ON THE DEITY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |