The Works of Sir John Suckling in prose and verse/If when Don Cupid's dart

by John Suckling

1

If when Don Cupid's dart

Doth wound a heart,
⁠We hide our grief
⁠And shun relief,
The smart increaseth on that score;5
For wounds unsearcht but rankle more.

2

Then if we whine, look pale,

And tell our tale,
⁠Men are in pain
⁠For us again;10
So, neither speaking doth become
The lover's state, nor being dumb.

3

When this I do descry,

Then thus think I:
⁠Love is the fart10
⁠Of every heart;
It pains a man when 'tis kept close,
And others doth offend when 'tis let loose.