Aphra Behn

(10 July 1640 – 16 April 1689 / Wye, England)

The Libertine - Poem by Aphra Behn

A THOUSAND martyrs I have made,
   All sacrificed to my desire,
A thousand beauties have betray'd
   That languish in resistless fire:
The untamed heart to hand I brought,
And fix'd the wild and wand'ring thought.

I never vow'd nor sigh'd in vain,
   But both, tho' false, were well received;
The fair are pleased to give us pain,
   And what they wish is soon believed:
And tho' I talk'd of wounds and smart,
Love's pleasures only touch'd my heart.

Alone the glory and the spoil
   I always laughing bore away;
The triumphs without pain or toil,
   Without the hell the heaven of joy;
And while I thus at random rove
Despise the fools that whine for love.


Comments about The Libertine by Aphra Behn

  • Gold Star - 14,135 Points * Sunprincess * (6/4/2014 4:45:00 PM)

    ............some beautiful lines in this write...
    ~ And tho' I talk'd of wounds and smart,
    Love's pleasures only touch'd my heart. ~ (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: smart, pain, joy, fire, heaven, alone, heart, love, believe



Poem Submitted: Saturday, January 4, 2003



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