Friday, July 8, 2011

Song From Amphitryon


      FAIR Iris I love, and hourly I die,
      But not for a lip, nor a languishing eye:
      She's fickle and false, and there we 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. 
       
      John Dryden
      1631-1700

      photo Sculpture by the Sea June 2011: grethe bachmann

2 comments:

Teresa Evangeline said...

That's an interesting look at "love." Relationships are so much easier when viewed this way. :)

Thyra said...

Yes, He's special! I remember a Dryden-line "There is a pleasure sure in being mad which none but madmen know......." So I was prepared for something else from him. Someone could write a poem like this today.
Grethe