 | Poems (1931) |  |
No. 55. Yes Belvidera
Yes! Belvidera, your Disdain
Gives my back my heart to me
As first your Favour wound my chain
Your Rigour sets me free
Gives my back my heart to me
As first your Favour wound my chain
Your Rigour sets me free
No joy, that once my soul beguil'd,
My memory shall wound,
Nor will I think how sweet you smil'd,
But how severe you Frown'd.
My memory shall wound,
Nor will I think how sweet you smil'd,
But how severe you Frown'd.
Your cruel look, your scornful air
My fancy shall possess,
And as I paint you still less fair,
I'll learn to love you less.
My fancy shall possess,
And as I paint you still less fair,
I'll learn to love you less.
240
My Waxen heart, when near the Flame,
Yields to th' imprinted mould,
But know, forgetful faithless Dame,
It hardens in the Cold.
Yields to th' imprinted mould,
But know, forgetful faithless Dame,
It hardens in the Cold.
[Tickell papers.]
| Poems (1931) | |