University of Virginia Library

CXXIII.

[You love me; but if I confess]

You love me; but if I confess
That I in turn love you no less,
I know that you will glance aside
With real or affected pride;

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And, be it true or be it feign'd,
My bosom would alike be pain'd,
So that I will not tell you now
Whether I love; and as for vow . .
You may demand it ten times over,
And never win from wary lover.
Mind! if we men would be as blest
For ever as when first carest,
We must excite a little fear,
And sometimes almost domineer.