To Celia

by Charles Sedley

Not, Celia, that I juster am,
   Or better than the rest;
For I would change each hour like them
   Were not my heart at rest.

But I am tied to very thee,
   By every thought I have;
Thy face I only care to see,
   Thy heart I only crave.

All that in woman is ador'd
   In thy dear self I find;
For the whole sex can but afford
   The handsome and the kind.

Why then should I seek farther store
   And still make love anew?
When change itself can give no more,
   'Tis easy to be true.

Monadnock Valley Press > Sedley