Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 1.pdf/140

106 Love’s suffering past all measure is,

Its joyance but shortlived, ywis.

Alas! how slender is the chance

To win love’s joy—which won, like glance

Of lightning faileth. Oft men spend

Their lifedays to attain some end

Which proves mere dust. Alas! but vain

My counsel is, if thou the rein

To Cupid giv’st of thy desires,

And he thy fickle heart inspires

To clasp his knees. Young spirits drift

To folly lightly, but to lift

Them thence find arduous task. Aside

I prithee cast fond love, though pride

Thou tak’st therein, for dire disgrace

’Twill bring on thee. If thou thy face

Set not against this madness, ’twill

O’erpower thee lastly. Wouldst thou still

Master thy folly, seize the bit

Betwixt thy teeth, and holding it

Firmly, therewith refrain thy heart

Ere diest thou .

Who follows where his heart doth lead

Full many a day hath evil speed.”

HEN Reason ceased her preachment, I

Made answer somewhat wrathfully:

“Madam, I beg that you refrain

Your mouth from chiding words amain.