Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/362

320 Yet kind to youth, this expiation o'er,

She bids thee "mend thy line, and sin no more."

For thee, translator of the tinsel song,

To whom such glittering ornaments belong,

Hibernian ! with thine eyes of blue,

And boasted locks of red or auburn hue,

Whose plaintive strain each love-sick Miss admires,

And o'er harmonious fustian half expires,"

Learn, if thou canst, to yield thine author's sense,

Nor vend thy sonnets on a false pretence.

Think'st thou to gain thy verse a higher place,

By dressing Camoëns in a suit of lace?

Mend, ! mend thy morals and thy taste;

Be warm, but pure; be amorous, but be chaste: