Women are by Themselves betray'd, And to their short joys cruel, Who foolishly 20 Themselves persuade Flames can outlast their fuel; None (though Platonic their pretence) With reason love unless by sense. And He, by whose Command to thee I did my heart resign, Now bids me choose A Deity Diviner far than thine; 30 No power can Love from Beauty sever; I'm still Love's subject, thine was never. The fairest She Whom none surpass To love hath only right, And such to me Thy beauty was Till one I found more bright; But 'twere as impious to adore Thee now, as not t' have done 't before. 40 Nor is it just By rules of Love Thou shouldst deny to quit A heart that must Another's prove, Ev'n in thy right to it; Must not thy subjects captives be To her who triumphs over Thee? Cease then in vain To blot my name 50 With forg'd Apostasy, Thine is that stain Who dar'st to claim What others ask of Thee. Of Lovers they are only true Who pay their hearts where they are due. [_Chang'd, yet Constant._] Here, perhaps for the first time, we get the _fire_ of the period communicating to the verse its own glow and flicker. It is a pity he allowed himself double rhymes in stanza 3, which break the note (those at the end of st. 4 do not). There are no variants; the poem is not in _1647_. But Miss Guiney has proposed to substitute 'hearts' for 'they' in the last line.] _The Self-deceiver._ MONTALVAN. Deceiv'd and undeceiv'd to be At once I seek with equal care, Wretched in the discovery, Happy if cozen'd still I were: Yet certain ill of ill hath less Than the mistrust of happiness. But if when I have reach'd my aim (That which I seek less worthy prove), Yet still my love remains the same, The subject not deserving love; 10 I can no longer be excus'd, Now more in fault as less abus'd. Then let me flatter my desires, And doubt what I might know too sure, He that to cheat himself conspires, From falsehood doth his faith secure; In love uncertain to believe I am deceiv'd, doth undeceive. For if my life on doubt depend, And in distrust inconstant steer, 20 If I essay the strife to end (When Ignorance were Wisdom here), All thy attempts how can I blame To work my death? I seek the same.