SIR CHARLES SEDLEY
Why then should I seek further store,
And still make love anew? When change itself can give no more,
J Tis easy to be true '
423 Song
' OVE 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'
JOHN WILMOT, EARL OF ROCHESTER
424 Return
ABSENT from thee, I languish still; Then ask me not, When I return? The straying fool 'twill plainly kill
To wish all day, all night to mourn.
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