Lord John Wilmot

(1647 - 1680 / Oxfordshire / England)

A Woman's Honour - Poem by Lord John Wilmot

Love bade me hope, and I obeyed;
Phyllis continued still unkind:
Then you may e'en despair, he said,
In vain I strive to change her mind.

Honour's got in, and keeps her heart,
Durst he but venture once abroad,
In my own right I'd take your part,
And show myself the mightier God.

This huffing Honour domineers
In breasts alone where he has place:
But if true generous Love apppears,
The hector dares not show his face.

Let me still languish and complain,
Be most unhumanly denied:
I have some pleasure in my pain,
She can have none with all her pride.

I fall a sacrifice to Love,
She lives a wretch for Honour's sake;
Whose tyrant does most cruel prove,
The difference is not hard to make.

Consider real Honour then,
You'll find hers cannot be the same;
'Tis noble confidence in men,
In women, mean, mistrustful shame.


Comments about A Woman's Honour by Lord John Wilmot

  • Susan Williams Susan Williams (1/21/2016 2:21:00 PM)

    Just like a rake. If a woman does not hop in bed with his oh so desirable self, she is absurdly attached to some weird ideal of honor. Boo hoo, man-slut.- -
    - - - I fall a sacrifice to Love,
    She lives a wretch for Honour's sake;
    Whose tyrant does most cruel prove,
    The difference is not hard to make. (Report) Reply

    6 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • * Sunprincess * (1/21/2016 8:27:00 AM)

    .............a nicely penned poetic view of a poet's experience with females in his life ★ (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: despair, women, pride, change, hope, pain, alone, woman, god, love, heart



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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