Thou Art Not False, but Thou Art Fickle

Thou art not false, but thou art fickle, To those thyself so fondly sought; The tears that thou hast forced to trickle Are doubly bitter from that thought: 'Tis this which breaks the heart thou grievest, _Too well_ thou lov'st--_too soon_ thou leavest. The wholly false the _heart_ despises, And spurns deceiver and deceit; But she who not a thought disguises, Whose love is as sincere as sweet,-- When _she_ can change who loved so truly, It _feels_ what mine has _felt_ so newly.…