 | Small poems of Divers sorts |  |
20. To the same.
Although, Bettina, I profess'd deep LoveUnto you, in the Epigram above,
Mine was no wanton flame; though I admir'd
Your beauties, I fruition ne're desir'd.
All your discourse was of such pretty stuff,
That I (methoughts) could never hear enough:
Your conversation did my motive prove;
So mine a friendship was, and not a Love.
| Small poems of Divers sorts | |