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APHRA BEHN

1640-1689

423                                                    Song

LOVE in fantastic triumph sate
   Whilst bleeding hearts around him flowd,
For whom fresh pains he did create
   And strange tyrannic power he showd:
From thy bright eyes he took his fires,
   Which round about in sport he hurld;
But twas from mine he took desires
   Enough t undo the amorous world.

From me he took his sighs and tears,
   From thee his pride and cruelty;
From me his languishments and fears,
   And every killing dart from thee.
Thus thou and I the god have armd
   And set him up a deity;
But my poor heart alone is harmd,
   Whilst thine the victor is, and free!

 

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