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Edna St. Vincent Millay - From: A Few Figs From Thistles
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Oh, think not I am faithful to a vow!
Faithless am I am save to love`s self alone.
Were you not lovely I would leave you now;
After the feet of beauty fly my own.
Were you not still my hunger`s rarest food,
And water ever to my wildest thirst,
I would desert you--think not but I would!--
And seek another as I sought you first.
But you are mobile as the veering air,
And all your charms more changeful than the tide,
Wherefore to be inconstant is no care:
I have but to continue at your side.
So wanton, light and false, my love, are you,
I am most faithless when I most am true.
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