Here you will find thePoemA Poem Written By Sir Henry Wotton In His Youthof poet Sir Henry Wotton
O Faithless World, & thy more faithless part, a Woman's heart! The true Shop of variety, where sits nothing but fits And feavers of desire, and pangs of love, which toyes remove. Why, was she born to please, or I to trust, words writ in dust? Suffering her Eyes to govern my despair, my pain for air; And fruit of time rewarded with untruth, the food of youth. Untrue she was : yet, I believ'd her eyes (instructed spies) Till I was taught, that Love was but a School to breed a fool. Or sought she more by triumphs of denial, to make a trial How far her smiles commanded my weakness? yield and confess, Excuse no more thy folly; but for Cure, blush and endure As well thy shame, as passions that were vain: and think, 'tis gain To know, that Love lodg'd in a Womans brest, Is but a guest.
