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.

William Congreve. 1670–1729


Self Sagacity said…
Such a sweet poem. SelfSagacity.com for Amanda on NB here. Just wanted to drop by and read your posts.

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