Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 2.djvu/155

CANTO II.] What careth she for hearts when once possessed?

Do proper homage to thine Idol's eyes;

But not too humbly, or she will despise

Thee and thy suit, though told in moving tropes:

Disguise ev'n tenderness, if thou art wise;

Brisk Confidence still best with woman copes:

Pique her and soothe in turn—soon Passion crowns thy hopes.

XXXV.

'Tis an old lesson—Time approves it true,

And those who know it best, deplore it most;

When all is won that all desire to woo,

The paltry prize is hardly worth the cost:

Youth wasted—Minds degraded—Honour lost—

These are thy fruits, successful Passion! these!

If, kindly cruel, early Hope is crost,

Still to the last it rankles, a disease,

Not to be cured when Love itself forgets to please.

XXXVI.

Away! nor let me loiter in my song,

For we have many a mountain-path to tread,