George Granville, Lord Lansdowne (1666–1735)

WHY, cruel creature, why so bent

To vex a tender heart?

To gold and title you relent;

Love throws in vain his dart.

Let glittering fools in courts be great,

For pay let armies move:

Beauty should have no other bait

But gentle vows and love.

If on those endless charms you lay

The value that’s their due,

Kings are themselves too poor to pay,

A thousand worlds too few:

But if a passion without vice,

Without disguise or art,

Ah, Mira, if true love’s your price

Behold it in my heart.