Sarah Fyge, English poet,writer, and feminist, born in Winslow, Buckinghamshire, 1670. Fyge was one of six daughters, her father Thomas Fyge, an apothecary and physician, and her mother, Mary Beecham Fyge.
Fyge, a feminist from a young age, began writing from the age of fourteen. Where her first work entitled "The Female Advocate" was published without her consent, in 1686,... more »
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Sarah Fyge Poems
Go perjur'd Youth and court what Nymph you please, Your Passion now is but a dull disease; With worn-out Sighs deceive some list'ning Ear, Who longs to know how 'tis and what Men swear;
Say, Tyrant Custom, why must we obey The impositions of thy haughty Sway; From the first dawn of Life, unto the Grave, Poor Womankind's in every State, a Slave.
The Repulse to Alcander
What is't you mean, that I am thus approach'd, Dare you to hope, that I may be debauch'd? For your seducing Words the same implies, In begging Pity with a soft Surprise,
Comments about Sarah Fyge
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Go perjur'd Youth and court what Nymph you please,
Your Passion now is but a dull disease;
With worn-out Sighs deceive some list'ning Ear,
Who longs to know how 'tis and what Men swear;
She'll think they're new from you; 'cause so to her.
Poor cousin'd Fool, she ne'er can know the Charms
Of being first encircled in thy Arms,
When all Love's Joys were innocent and gay,
As fresh and blooming as the new-born day.
Your Charms did then with native Sweetness flow;
The forc'd-kind Complaisance you now bestow,
Is but a false agreeable Design,