THUS I resolve, and time hath taught me so; Since she is fair and ever kind to me, Though she be wild and wanton-like in show, Those little stains in youth I will not see. That she be constant, heaven I oft implore: If prayers prevail not, I can do no more. Palm tree the more you press, the more it grows: Leave it alone, it will not much exceed. Free beauty if you strive to yoke, you lose: And for affection, strange distaste you breed. What Nature hath not taught, no Art can frame: Wild born be wild still, though by force you tame. |