Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/83

Rh 9. Arm'd thus, to make their bosoms bleed,

Many will throng, to sigh like me, love!

More constant they may prove, indeed;

Fonder, alas! they ne'er can be, love! [1806.]

TO WOMAN.

! experience might have told me

That all must love thee, who behold thee:

Surely experience might have taught

Thy firmest promises are nought;

But, plac'd in all thy charms before me,

All I forget, but to adore thee.

Oh memory! thou choicest blessing,

When join'd with hope, when still possessing;

But how much curst by every lover

When hope is fled, and passion's over.

Woman, that fair and fond deceiver,

How prompt are striplings to believe her!

How throbs the pulse, when first we view

The eye that rolls in glossy blue,