Page:Enoch Arden, etc - Tennyson - 1864.djvu/179

 She gave you me, and said, 'Come, kiss it, love, and put it by: If this can change, why so can I.' O fie, you golden nothing, fie You golden lie.

O Ringlet, O Ringlet, I count you much to blame, For Ringlet, O Ringlet, You put me much to shame, So Ringlet, O Ringlet, I doom you to the flame. For what is this which now I learn, Has given all my faith a turn? Burn, you glossy heretic, burn, Burn, burn.