The Repulse

Not that by this disdain
I am releas'd,
And freed from thy tyrannic chain,
Do I myself think bless'd;

Nor that thy flame shall burn
No more; for know
That I shall into ashes turn,
Before this fire doth so.

Nor yet that unconfin'd
I now may rove,
And with new beauties please my mind,
But that thou ne'er didst love:

For since thou hast no part
Felt of this flame,
I only from thy tyrant heart
Repuls'd, not banish'd am.

To lose what once was mine
Would grieve me more
Than those inconstant sweets of thine
Had pleas'd my soul before.

Now I have not lost the bliss
I ne'er possest;
And spite of fate am blest in this,
That I was never blest.