I Cannot Change, As Others Do by John Wilmot

I cannot change, as others do,
Though you unjustly scorn;
Since that poor swain that sighs for you,
For you alone was born.
No, Phyllis, no, your heart to move
A surer way I'll try:
And to revenge my slighted love,
Will still love on, will still love on, and die.

When, killed with grief, Amintas lies
And you to mind shall call,
The sighs that now unpitied rise,
The tears that vainly fall,
That welcome hour that ends this smart
Will then begin your pain;
For such a faithful tender heart
Can never break, can never break in vain.

by John Wilmot

Other poems by 'John Wilmot'

By All Love's Soft, Yet Mighty Powers

The Imperfect Enjoyment

An Allusion to Horace

A Song Of A Young Lady To Her Ancient Lover

The Disabled Debauchee

Signior Dildo

Poems to Mulgrave and Scroope

A Ramble in St. James's Park


My Dear Mistress Has a Heart

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