Şiir 11
So much I've suffer'd, and so long, no more
I'll bear the wrongs which I have borne before.
Begone, vile Cupid, I'll no more endure
Thy slavish labors, and fatigues impure;
From hence, I'll put an end to all the pains
5
Thou'st cost me, and from hence shake off thy chains.
I hate the liv'ry I with pleasure wore,
And blush at bonds, which once with pride I bore:
But this, methinks, should have been done before.
To leave my wicked courses I begin,
10
As years deprive me of the gust of sin.
On Cupid's neck I should have trod when young,
And vanquish'd him when my desires were strong.
In that there had been virtue; now there's none,
The world will say so; let the world say on.
15
Much opposition I shall meet; perhaps,
The lewd will laugh, and threaten a relapse.
To bear reproaches I must be prepar'd,
Easy's the end, when the beginning's hard;
Content let me the present pain endure,
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