A Thousand Martyrs I Have Made

Arphra Behn

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, th false, were well receiv'd. 
The Fair are pleas'd to give us pain, 
     And what they wish is soon believ'd. 
And th 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.

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