C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Lines to an Inconstant Mistress (with Burnss Adaptation)
By Sir Robert Ayton (15701638)
I
And I might have gone near to love thee,
Had I not found the slightest prayer
That lips could speak had power to move thee.
But I can let thee now alone,
As worthy to be loved by none.
Thee such an unthrift of thy sweets,
Thy favors are but like the wind
Which kisseth everything it meets!
And since thou canst love more than one,
Thou’rt worthy to be loved by none.
Armed with her briers, how sweet she smells!
But plucked and strained through ruder hands,
Her scent no longer with her dwells.
But scent and beauty both are gone,
And leaves fall from her one by one.
When thou hast handled been awhile,
Like fair flowers to be thrown aside;
And thou shalt sigh while I shall smile,
To see thy love to every one
Hath brought thee to be loved by none.
I
I wad been ower the lugs in love
Had I na found the slightest prayer
That lips could speak, thy heart could move.
I do confess thee sweet—but find
Thou art sae thriftless o’ thy sweets,
Thy favors are the silly wind,
That kisses ilka thing it meets.
Among its native briers sae coy,
How sune it tines its scent and hue
When pu’d and worn a common toy.
Sic fate, ere lang, shall thee betide,
Tho’ thou may gaily bloom awhile;
Yet sune thou shalt be thrown aside
Like any common weed and vile.