What soul would bargain for a cure that brings <br />Contempt the nobler agony to kill? <br />Rather let me bear on the bitter ill, <br />And strike this rusty bosom with new stings! <br />It seems there is another veering fit <br />Since on a gold-haired lady's eyeballs pure, <br />I looked with little prospect of a cure, <br />The while her mouth's red bow loosed shafts of wit. <br />Just heaven! can it be true that jealousy <br />Has decked the woman thus? and does her head <br />Swim somewhat for possessions forfeited? <br />Madam, you teach me many things that be. <br />I open an old book, and there I find <br />That "Women still may love whom they deceive." <br />Such love I prize not, madam: by your leave, <br />The game you play at is not to my mind.<br /><br />George Meredith<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/modern-love-xiv-what-soul-would-bargain/
