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.
.........a wonderful poem with some great lines ★ And tho' I talk'd of wounds and smart, Love's pleasures only touch'd my heart.
............some beautiful lines in this write... ~ And tho' I talk'd of wounds and smart, Love's pleasures only touch'd my heart. ~
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Loves pleasures only touched my heart Fantastic imagery. Thanks for sharing it here.