The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] ... With a Copious Index. To which is prefixed Some Account of his Life. In Four Volumes |
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 | The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] |  |
108
ODE ON AN INCONSTANT.
Those peerless lips are both forsworne;
Those lips that roses blooms adorn,
Ah, too deceiving fayre!
I thought no guile upon thy tongue,
I thought that mouth could say no wrong,
Nor lay for hearts a snare.
Those lips that roses blooms adorn,
Ah, too deceiving fayre!
I thought no guile upon thy tongue,
I thought that mouth could say no wrong,
Nor lay for hearts a snare.
But now I see thy vaine, vaine mind,
And now thy cruelty I find
That taketh pride in woe:
In every sigh thy guile I hear,
And see my wrongs in ev'ry tear
Which Sorrow bids to flow.
And now thy cruelty I find
That taketh pride in woe:
In every sigh thy guile I hear,
And see my wrongs in ev'ry tear
Which Sorrow bids to flow.
Where'er I go, I hear thy name,
And hear fierce Anger cry out ‘Shame!’
On beauty so renown'd.
Know, beauty was design'd for joy,
Which thou dost cruelly employ
To give the world a wound.
And hear fierce Anger cry out ‘Shame!’
On beauty so renown'd.
Know, beauty was design'd for joy,
Which thou dost cruelly employ
To give the world a wound.
| The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] | |