Page:The Poetical Works of William Motherwell, 1849.djvu/371



recke I now of comely dame? What care I now for fair pucelle? Unscorchde I meet their glance of flame, Unmovede I mark their bosoms swel, For Love and I have sayde farewel!

Go, prattlynge fool!—go, wanton wilde! Seke thy fond mother this to tel— That loveliest maydes on me have smyled, And that I stoutly did rebel, And bade thee and thy arts farewel!

With me thy tyrant reigne is o'er, Thou hear'st thy latest warninge knel; Speed, waywarde urchin, from my doore,— My hert to thee gives no handsel, For thou and I have sworne farewel!

So trimme thy bow, and fleche thy shafte, And peer where sillie gallants dwel, On them essaye thy archer crafte, No more on me thy boite schal tel— False Love and I have sunge farewel!