Page:Translations from Camoens; and Other Poets.pdf/16



HOULD Love, the tyrant of my suffering heart, Yet long enough protract his votary's days, To see the lustre from those eyes depart, The lode-stars now*, that fascinate my gaze;

To see rude Time the living roses blight, That o'er thy cheek their loveliness unfold, And all unpitying, change thy tresses bright, To silvery whiteness, from their native gold;

Oh! then thy heart an equal change will prove, And mourn the coldness that repelled my love, When tears and penitence will all be vain; And I shall see thee weep for days gone by, And in thy deep regret and fruitless sigh, Find amplest vengeance for my former pain.