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Thomas Carew

To His Inconstant Mistress

WHEN thou, poor Excommunicate
    From all the joys of Love, shalt see
The full reward and glorious fate
    Which my strong faith shall purchase me,
    Then curse thine own inconstancy!

A fairer hand than thine shall cure
    That heart which thy false oaths did wound;
And to my soul a soul more pure
    Than thine shall by Love's hand be bound,
    And both with equal glory crown'd.

Then shalt thou weep, entreat, complain
    To Love, as I did once to thee;
When all thy tears shall be as vain
    As mine were then: for thou shalt be
    Damn'd for thy false apostasy.

 
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About the poet
Thomas Carew
 
By the same poet
Song
Persuasions to Joy: a Song
The Unfading Beauty
Ingrateful Beauty threatened
Epitaph: On the Lady Mary Villiers
Another Epitaph
 
Related books
Thomas Carew at amazon.com


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