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William Congreve

False though She be

FALSE though she be to me and love,
    I'll ne'er pursue revenge;
For still the charmer I approve,
    Though I deplore her change.

In hours of bliss we oft have met:
    They could not always last;
And though the present I regret,
    I'm grateful for the past.

About the poet
William Congreve
 
By the same poet
A Hue and Cry after Fair Amoret
 
Related books
William Congreve at amazon.co.uk


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