The Libertine

Arphra BehnArphra Behn

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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.
Arphra Behn
About the poet

Arphra Behn

1640-1689/EnglishArphra Behn, British dramatist and novelist, was baptized at Wye, Kent, in 1640. Her father, John Johnson, was a barber. While still a child she was taken out to Surinam, then an English possession, from which she returned to England in 1658,…

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