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From Shame and Fear had I received,

And e’en o’er Danger had achieved

A triumph and been safe. All three

Past doubt had left me tranquilly,

Had not those reptiles raised their heads

From slumbering on their drowsy beds,

Whom this base wretch to help him called,

When he beheld Fair-Welcome palled

With fear, as Jealousy cried out

(The old crone makes a fearful rout)

That she was overcome with dread:

I stayed me not, but thenceward fled

In haste.

Forthwith was raised a tower,

Where lies Fair-Welcome ’neath their power

A prisoner. Friend, to thee I fly

For aid: O help me ere I die.

Then spake the friend, and sagely gave

Advice, with kindly voice and suave:

Dear friend, give not yourself to grief,

But let sweet love be still your chief

Delight, and let the God of Love

Your loyal service have, above

All else both night and day; be free

And frank with him whate’er may be;

For perjured word or thought unkind

From you would well-nigh wreck his mind,

Since he your homage hath received;

Truth’s self is he, and ne’er deceived

VOL. II.