Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/105

Rh Though a smile may delight,

Yet a frown will affright

Or drive me to dreadful despair.

7.

While my blood is thus warm,

I ne'er shall reform,

To mix in the Platonists' school;

Of this I am sure,

Was my Passion so pure,

Thy Mistress would think me a fool.

8.

And if I should shun,

Every woman for one,

Whose image must fill my whole breast;

Whom I must prefer,

And sigh but for her,

What an insult 'twould be to the rest!

9.

Now Strephon, good-bye;

I cannot deny,

Your passion appears most absurd;