A THOUSAND martyrs I have made, br    All sacrificed to my desire, br A thousand beauties have betray'd br    That languish in resistless fire: br The untamed heart to hand I brought, br And fix'd the wild and wand'ring thought. br br I never vow'd nor sigh'd in vain, br    But both, tho' false, were well received; br The fair are pleased to give us pain, br    And what they wish is soon believed: br And tho' I talk'd of wounds and smart, br Love's pleasures only touch'd my heart. br br Alone the glory and the spoil br    I always laughing bore away; br The triumphs without pain or toil, br    Without the hell the heaven of joy; br And while I thus at random rove br Despise the fools that whine for love.