FAIR IRIS I LOVE AND HOURLY I DIE

JOHN DRYDEN

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     Fair Iris I love and hourly I die,
     But not for a lip nor a languishing eye:
     She's fickle and false, and there I agree;
     For I am as false and as fickle as she:
     We neither believe what either can say;
     And, neither believing, we neither betray.

     'Tis civil to swear and say things, of course;
     We mean not the taking for better or worse.
     When present we love, when absent agree;
     I think not of Iris, nor Iris of me:
     The legend of love no couple can find
     So easy to part, or so equally join'd.