It is but folly, then, to fume and fret,
If one light lass that old deception wrought;
O that I too might evermore forget
To speak my heart's true thought!
O that my long, long nights brought peace and thee!
That nought but thee my waking eyes did fill!
Thou wert most false and cruel, woe is me!
False! But I love thee still.
_L'Envoi_
How well fresh water mixes with old wine!
Bacchus loves water-nymphs. Bring water, boy!
What care I where she sleeps? This night of mine
Shall I in sighs employ?
Make the cup strong, I tell you! Stronger there!
Wine only! While the Syrian balm o'er-flows!
Long would I revel with anointed hair,
And wear this wreath of rose.
BOOK IV
ELEGY THE THIRTEENTH
A LOVER'S OATH
No! ne'er shall rival lure me from thine arms!
(In such sweet bond did our first sighs agree!)
Save for thine own I see no woman's charms;
No maid in all the world is fair but thee.
Would that no eyes but mine could find thee fair!
Displease those others! Save me this annoy!
I ask not envy nor the people's stare:--
Wisest is he who loves with silent joy.
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