There never yet was honest man That ever drove the trade of love; It is impossible, nor can Integrity our ends promove: For Kings and Lovers are alike in this That their chief art in reigne dissembling is. Here we are lov'd, and there we love, Good nature now and passion strive Which of the two should be above, And laws unto the other give. So we false fire with art sometime discover, And the true fire with the same art do cover. What Rack can Fancy find so high? Here we must Court, and here ingage, Though in the other place we die. O! 'tis torture all, and cozenage; And which the harder is I cannot tell, To hide true love, or make false love looke well. Since it is thus, God of desire, Give me my honesty again, And take thy brands back, and thy fire; I'm weary of the State I'm in: Since (if the very best should now befal) Loves Triumph, must be Honours Funeral. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE PROPOSAL TO ERECT A MONUMENT IN ENGLAND TO LORD BYRON by EMMA LAZARUS THE CARELESS GALLANT by THOMAS JORDAN THE BROOK; AN IDYL: THE BROOK'S SONG by ALFRED TENNYSON THE ORIGIN OF SONG-WRITING by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD I'D BE A BUTTERFLY by THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY AN ANCIENT GODDESS; IN TWO PICTURES by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |