27 - Though I thy Mithridates were, - Framed to defy the poison-dart,

Though I thy Mithridates were,
Framed to defy the poison-dart,
Yet must thou fold me unaware
To know the rapture of thy heart,
And I but render and confess
The malice of thy tenderness.

For elegant and antique phrase,
Dearest, my lips wax all too wise;
Nor have I known a love whose praise
Our piping poets solemnize,
Neither a love where may not be
Ever so little falsity.

Read next: 28 - Gentle lady, do not sing - Sad songs about the end of love;

Read previous: 26 - Thou leanest to the shell of night, - Dear lady, a divining ear.

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