 | Claraphil and Clarinda |  |
The Ladies Answer.
By all the Perjuries thy Lips did wear,
Thy formal Favours never aim'd at Good,
But what might move the Bloud,
To wanton in its own self-love;
Which Virtue bids me to reprove,
Though to reform be to forswear,
Yet in the holy State of Love we may
Not swear our Souls away:
For at the Latter Day
We Damn if we betray
And they that prove
False in their Faith, un-crown the King of Love.
Thy formal Favours never aim'd at Good,
But what might move the Bloud,
To wanton in its own self-love;
Which Virtue bids me to reprove,
Though to reform be to forswear,
Yet in the holy State of Love we may
Not swear our Souls away:
For at the Latter Day
We Damn if we betray
And they that prove
False in their Faith, un-crown the King of Love.
Ere Time have blemish'd this poor bloom of mine
Your wilde Idolatry will worship more
Then Laplanders adore:
You cannot with your words win me,
To think that where no Saint you see
You can adore an empty Shrine:
No, dear Dissembler, the best Love doth tend
To a self-serving End,
The greatest Power that is
We do obey for Bliss,
He that will be
False to himself, can nere be true to me.
Your wilde Idolatry will worship more
Then Laplanders adore:
To think that where no Saint you see
You can adore an empty Shrine:
No, dear Dissembler, the best Love doth tend
To a self-serving End,
The greatest Power that is
We do obey for Bliss,
He that will be
False to himself, can nere be true to me.
| Claraphil and Clarinda | |