You charm’d me not with that fair face

John Dryden

You charm’d me not with that fair face

Though it was all divine:

To be another’s is the grace,

That makes me wish you mine.

The Gods and Fortune take their part

Who like young monarchs fight;

And boldly dare invade that heart

Which is another’s right.

First mad with hope we undertake

To pull up every bar;

But once possess’d, we faintly make

A dull defensive war.

Now every friend is turn’d a foe

In hope to get our store:

And passion makes us cowards grow,

Which made us brave before.

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