Aphra Behn

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

A Thousand Martyrs I Have Made - Poem by Aphra Behn

A thousand Martyrs I have made,
All sacrific'd to my desire;
A thousand Beauties have betray'd,
That languish in resistless Fire.
The untam'd Heart to hand I brought,
And fixt the wild and wandring Thought.

I never vow'd nor sigh'd in vain
But both, thô false, were well receiv'd.
The Fair are pleas'd to give us pain,
And what they wish is soon believ'd.
And thô I talked of Wounds and Smart,
Loves Pleasures only toucht my Heart.

Alone the Glory and the Spoil
I always Laughing bore away;
The Triumphs, without Pain or Toil,
Without the Hell, the Heav'n of Joy.
And while I thus at random rove
Despise the Fools that whine for Love.


Comments about A Thousand Martyrs I Have Made by Aphra Behn

  • Brian Jani (5/5/2014 5:59:00 AM)


    Powerful words (Report) Reply

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



Poem Submitted: Wednesday, May 9, 2001



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