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Aphra Behn - A Thousand Martyrs I Have Made
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A thousand Martyrs I have made, 
     All sacrific`d to my desire; 
A thousand Beauties have betray`d, 
     That languish in resistless Fire. 
The untam`d Heart to hand I brought, 
And fixt the wild and wandring Thought. 

I never vow`d nor sigh`d in vain 
     But both, thô false, were well receiv`d. 
The Fair are pleas`d to give us pain, 
     And what they wish is soon believ`d. 
And thô I talked of Wounds and Smart, 
Loves Pleasures only toucht my Heart. 

Alone the Glory and the Spoil 
     I always Laughing bore away; 
The Triumphs, without Pain or Toil, 
     Without the Hell, the Heav`n of Joy. 
And while I thus at random rove 
Despise the Fools that whine for Love.
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