I say our love will last forever, true.
You say I lie too much.  But I intend
to make quite good on vows I say to you.
In fact, I write this poem to that end.
You see, when other men say such a phrase,
it surely has no force.  But poets then
do speak the truth (though otherwise we glaze
it over, try for wit instead).  For when
these words are read aloud, my name and yours
will sound together. Immortality,
in human lore and memory, is ours:
our love in verse, for all eternity.
  But others lie when offering love forever—
  the poet is the only one so clever.