 | The Poems of Ambrose Philips |  |
[Thou speakest always ill of me]
Thou speakest always ill of me,I speak always well of thee:
But, spite of all our noise and pother,
The world believes nor one nor t'other.
| The Poems of Ambrose Philips | |
I speak always well of thee:
But, spite of all our noise and pother,
The world believes nor one nor t'other.