To Pulcheria, On Her Faying Behind my Back
Mistaken Nymph! in vain you strive
To discompose my Breast;
Alas! these groundless Taunts you give,
Can never break my Rest.
II.
Like Breath on Steel, your peevish Spight
May for a Moment stain;
But as that quickly grows more bright,
So will my injur'd Fame.
III.
With Patience I your Scosfs endure,
Pleas'd with my Innocence:
In that alone, I rest secure;
And seek no more Defence.
IV.
Go then, some other Trick invent
My placid Soul to move;
For this can ne'er your Shame prevent;
Your Wit or Virtue prove.
To discompose my Breast;
Alas! these groundless Taunts you give,
Can never break my Rest.
II.
Like Breath on Steel, your peevish Spight
May for a Moment stain;
But as that quickly grows more bright,
So will my injur'd Fame.
III.
With Patience I your Scosfs endure,
Pleas'd with my Innocence:
In that alone, I rest secure;
And seek no more Defence.
IV.
Go then, some other Trick invent
My placid Soul to move;
For this can ne'er your Shame prevent;
Your Wit or Virtue prove.
Translation:
Language:
Reviews
No reviews yet.