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Poem by John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester


To Corinna


      A Song

             I.

What cruel Pains Corinna takes,
     To force that harmless Frown:
When not one Charm her Face forsakes,
     Love cannot lose his own.

             II.

So sweet a Face, so soft a Heart,
     Such Eyes so very kind,
Betray, alas! the silly Art
     Virtue had ill design'd.

             III.

Poor feeble Tyrant! who in vain
     Would proudly take upon her,
Against kind Nature to maintain
     Affected Rules of Honour.

             IV.

The Scorn she bears so helpless proves,
     When I plead Passion to her,
That much she fears, (but more she loves,)
     Her Vassal should undo her.



John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester


John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester's other poems:
  1. Epistle
  2. A Song (To this Moment a Rebel)
  3. God Bless Our Good And Gracious King
  4. On the Women about Town
  5. The Advice


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