Fair Iris I love and hourly I die,
But not for a lip nor a languishing eye:
She's fickle and false, and there I agree;
For I am as false and as fickle as she:
We neither believe what either can say;
And, neither believing, we neither betray.
'Tis civil to swear and say things, of course;
We mean not the taking for better or worse.
When present we love, when absent agree;
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem