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Alexander Brome (Александр Бром)

The Contrary


NAy prithee do, be coy and slight me,
I must love, though thou abhor it,
This pretty niceness does invite me:
Scorn me, and I'll love thee for it.
That World of beauty that is in you,
I'll overcome like Alexander.
In amorous flames I can continue
Unsing'd, and prove a Salamander.


Do not be won too soon I prethee,
But let me woe, whilest thou dost fly me.
'Tis my delight to dally with thee,
I'll court thee still if thou'•t deny me:
For there's no happiness but loving,
Enjoyment makes our pleasures •lat;
Give me the heart that's alwaies moving,
And's not confin'd t' one, you know what.


I've fresh supplies on all occasions,
Of thoughts, as Various as your face is,
No Directory for evasions,
Nor will I court by common-places.
My heart's with Antidotes provided,
Nor will I dye 'cause you frown on me;
I'm merry when I am derided,
When you laugh at me, or upon me.


'Tis fancy that creates those pleasures
That have no being but conceited;
And when we come to dig those treasures,
We see our selves our selves have cheated:
But if th'ar• minded to destroy me,
Then love me much, and love me ever,
I'll love thee more, and that may slay me,
So I•hy Martyr am, or never.

Alexander Brome's other poems:
  1. The Cavalier
  2. The Hard Heart
  3. The Reformation
  4. The Libertine
  5. The Prodigal

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