Self-Love
He that cannot choose but love,
And strives against it still,
Never shall my fancy move,
For he loves 'gainst his will;
Nor he which is all his own,
And can at pleasure choose,
When I am caught he can be gone,
And when he list refuse.
Nor he that loves none but fair,
For such by all are sought;
Nor he that can for foul ones care,
For his judgement then is nought;
Nor he that hath wit, for he will
Make me his jest or slave;
Nor a fool, for when others (fulfill),*
He can neither (rest or behave);*
Nor he that still his Mistress pays,
For she is thralled therefore;
Nor he that pays not, for he says
Within She's worth no more.
Is there then no kind of men
Whom I may freely prove?
I will vent that humour then
In mine own self-love.
by John Donne
注:标*两句诗中括号内部分原作遗失,系本人为了吟唱方便擅自添加,毕竟省略号没法唱,贻笑大方了。——宋十三 再拜