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By Charles Sedley (1639-1701)

Phyllis is my only joy,
     Faithless as the winds or seas;
Sometimes coming, sometimes coy,
     Yet she never fails to please;
If with a frown
I am cast down,
Phyllis smiling,
And beguiling,
Makes me happier than before.

Though, alas! too late I find
     Nothing can her fancy fix,
Yet the moment she is kind
     I forgive her all her tricks;
Which, though I see,
I can't get free;
She deceiving,
I believing;
What need lovers wish for more?

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