Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/506

 But I am tied to very thee By every thought I have; Thy face I only care to see, Thy heart I only crave.

All that in woman is adored In thy dear self I find— For the whole sex can but afford The handsome and the kind.

Why then should I seek further store, And still make love anew? When change itself can give no more, 'Tis easy to be true!

APHRA BEHN

1640-1689

411. Song

Love in fantastic triumph sate Whilst bleeding hearts around him flow'd, For whom fresh pains he did create And strange tyrannic power he show'd: From thy bright eyes he took his fires, Which round about in sport he hurl'd; But 'twas from mine he took desires Enough t' undo the amorous world.

From me he took his sighs and tears, From thee his pride and cruelty; From me his languishments and fears, And every killing dart from thee. Thus thou and I the god have arm'd And set him up a deity; But my poor heart alone is harm'd, Whilst thine the victor is, and free!