Falshood discovered.
[I]
Fond woman, thou mistak'st thy mark;
Thy reason guides thee in the dark:
And though thy Cupids cannot see,
Mine have too many eyes for thee.
Alas, I read in ev'ry smile,
The Arts you use when you beguile.
II
What though you swear to me, you love
With passions equal to the Dove;
And that your flames are blown no higher
Than to the Sphere of chaste desire?
Forgive me if I needs must say
This is the common womans way.
III
Your Eyes like Suns I know can be
As warm to any as to me,
And yet you blush not oft to say
You love but the Platonick way;
Love how you will, and when you please,
My heart shall sleep and take it's ease.
