Away, away, bewildering look!
Or all the boast of virtue's o'er; Go-hie thee to the sage's book,
And learn from him to feel no more!
I cannot warn thee; every touch,
That brings my pulses close to thine
Tells me I want thy aid as much,
Oh! quite as much, as thou dost mine!
Yet stay, dear love-one effort yet-
A moment turn those eyes away,
And let me, if I can, forget
The light that leads my soul astray!
Thou say'st that we were born to meet,
That our hearts bear one common seal,
Oh Lady! think, how man's deceit
Can seem to sigh and feign to feel!
When, o'er thy face some gleam of thought, Like daybeams through the morning air,
Hath gradual stole, and I have caught
The feeling ere it kindled there :
The sympathy I then betray'd,
Perhaps was but the child of art;
The guile of one, who long hath play'd
With all these wily nets of heart.
Oh! thou hast not my virgin vow;
Though few the years I yet have told,
Canst thou believe I live till now,
With loveless heart or senses cold?
No-many a throb of bliss and pain,
For many a maid my soul hath prov'd;
With some I wanton'd wild and vain,
While some I truly, dearly lov'd!
The cheek to thine I fondly lay,
To theirs hath been as fondly laid;
The words to thee I warmly say,
To them have been as warmly said.
Then, scorn at once a languid heart,
Which long hath lost its early spring; Think of the pure, bright soul thou art, And-keep the ring, oh! keep the ring.
Enough-now, turn thine eyes again;
What, still that look, and still that sigh!
Dost thou not feel my counsel then?
Oh! no, beloved!-nor do I.
While thus to mine thy bosom lies,
While thus our breaths commingling glow, 'Twere more than woman, to be wise,
'Twere more than man to wish thee so!
Did we not love so true, so dear,
This lapse could never be forgiven;
But hearts so fond, and lips so near-
Give me the ring, and now-oh heaven!
CHE CON LE LOR BUGIE PAJON DIVINI.
I DO confess, in many a sigh
My lips have breath'd you many a lie,
And who, with such delights in view,
Would lose them, for a lie or two?
Nay-look not thus, with brow reproving;
Lies are, my dear, the soul of loving!
If half we tell the girls were true,
If half we swear to think and do,
Were aught but lying's bright illusion,
The world would be in strange confusion!
If ladies' eyes were, every one,
As lovers swear, a radiant sun,
Astronomy should leave the skies,
To learn her lore in ladies' eyes!
Oh no?-believe me, lovely girl,
When nature turns your teeth to pearl,
Your neck to snow, your eyes to fire,
Your yellow locks to golden wire,
Then, only then, can heaven decree,
That you should live for only me,
Or I for you, as night and morn,
We've swearing kist, and kissing sworn!
And now, my gentle hints to clear,
For once, I'll tell you truth, my dear!
Whenever you may chance to meet
A loving youth, whose love is sweet,
Long as you're false, and he believes you,
Long as you trust, and he deceives you,
So long the blissful bond endures;
And while he lies, his heart is your's:
But oh! you've wholly lost the youth,
The instant that he tells you truth!
|