When my love swears that she is made of truth,
I do believe her, though I know she lies,
That she may think me some untutor’d youth,
Unlearned in the world’s false subtleties.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue:
On both sides thus is simple truth supprest.
But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
O, Love’s best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love loves not to have years told:
Therefore I lie with her and she with me,
And in our faults by lies we flatter’d be.
How far can a person go to fulfill the dream’s of someone else?
Read Dream’s Sake to find out. Click on the picture for reviews and free preview of the novel