In sport you break the heart, and rend the fame.
Not that your art can be successful here,
Th’ already plunder’d need no robber fear:
Nor sighs, nor charms, nor flatteries can move,
Too well secur’d against a second love.
Once, and but once, that devil charm’d my mind;
To reason deaf, to observation blind;
I idly hop’d (what cannot love persuade?)
My fondness equal’d, and my love repaid:
Slow to distrust, and willing to believe,