Love Arm'd

LOVE in Fantastique Triumph satt,

Whilst bleeding Hearts around him flow'd,

For whom Fresh pains he did create,

And strange Tryanic power he show'd;

From thy Bright Eyes he took his fire,

Which round about, in sport he hurl'd;

But 'twas from mine he took desire,

Enough to undo the Amorous World.

From me he took his sighs and tears,

From thee his Pride and Crueltie;

From me his Languishments and Feares,

And every Killing Dart from thee;

Thus thou and I, the God have arm'd,

And sett him up a Deity;

But my poor Heart alone is harm'd,

Whilst thine the Victor is, and free.

Aphra Behn

A Thousand Martyrs I Have Made

A THOUSAND Martyrs I have made,

All sacrific'd to my desire;

A thousand Beauties have betray'd,

That languish in resistless Fire.

The untam'd Heart to hand I brought,

And fixt the wild and wandring Thought.

I never vow'd nor sigh'd in vain

But both, thô false, were well receiv'd.

The Fair are pleas'd to give us pain,

And what they wish is soon believ'd.

And thô I talked of Wounds and Smart,

Loves Pleasures only toucht my Heart.

Alone the Glory and the Spoil

I always Laughing bore away;

The Triumphs, without Pain or Toil,

Without the Hell, the Heav'n of Joy.

And while I thus at random rove

Despise the Fools that whine for Love.

Aphra Behn