 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
581
Out of Astrea.
MADRIGALL.
I think I could my Passions sway,
Though great, as Beauties power can move
To such obedience, as to say,
I cannot; or I do not love.
But to pretend another Flame,
Since I adore thy conqu'ring Eye,
To thee, and Truth, were such a shame,
I cannot do it, though I dye.
Though great, as Beauties power can move
To such obedience, as to say,
I cannot; or I do not love.
But to pretend another Flame,
Since I adore thy conqu'ring Eye,
To thee, and Truth, were such a shame,
I cannot do it, though I dye.
If I must one, or th' other do,
Then let me die, I beg of you.
Then let me die, I beg of you.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |