Poem of the day

False Though She Be
by William Congreve (1670-1729)

False though she be to me and love,
   I’ll ne’er pursue revenge;
For still the charmer I approve,
   Though I deplore her change.

In hours of bliss we oft have met:
   They could not always last;
And though the present I regret,
   I’m grateful for the past.

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