John Dryden (Äæîí Äðàéäåí)

Song From Amphitryon

Air Iris I love, and hourly I die,
But not for a lip, nor a languishing eye:
She's fickle and false, and there we 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:
I think not of Iris, nor Iris of me.
The legend of love no couple can find,
So easy to part, or so equally join'd. 

1. To John Hoddesdon, on his Divine Epigrams
2. Upon Young Mr. Rogers, of Gloucestershire
3. On Mrs. Margaret Paston, of Barningham, in Norfolk
4. The Tears of Amynta for the Death of Damon
5. Epitaph on a Nephew in Catworth Church, Huntingdonshire

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