Kind are her answers,
But her performance keeps no day;
Breaks time, as dancers
From their own music when they stray.
All her free favours and smooth words,
Wing my hopes in vain.
O did ever voice so sweet but only feign?
Can true love yield such delay,
Converting joy to pain?
Lost is our freedom,
When we submit to women so:
Why do we need them
When, in their best they work our woe?
Can alter ends, by Fate prefixed.
O why is the good of man with evil mixed?
Never were days yet called two,
But one night went betwixt.
Kind Are Her Answers,
Thomas Campion
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Poem topics: evil, fate, freedom, joy, lost, music, never, night, pain, time, women, work, wing, voice, sweet, good, submit, true, stray, delay, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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