| A thousand martyrs I have made, | | | All sacrificed to my desire, | | | A thousand beauties have betray'd | | | That languish in resistless fire: | | | The untamed heart to hand I brought, | 5 | | And fix'd the wild and wand'ring thought. | | | | | I never vow'd nor sigh'd in vain, | | | But both, tho' false, were well received; | | | The fair are pleased to give us pain, | | | And what they wish is soon believed: | 10 | | And tho' I talk'd of wounds and smart, | | | Love's pleasures only touch'd my heart. | | | | | Alone the glory and the spoil | | | I always laughing bore away; | | | The triumphs without pain or toil, | 15 | | Without the hell the heaven of joy; | | | And while I thus at random rove | | | Despise the fools that whine for love. | |
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