Farewell To Love[402:1]

Farewell, sweet Love! yet blame you not my truth; More fondly ne'er did mother eye her child Than I your form: yours were my hopes of youth, And as you shaped my thoughts I sighed or smiled.

While most were wooing wealth, or gaily swerving To pleasure's secret haunts, and some apart Stood strong in pride, self-conscious of deserving, To you I gave my whole weak wishing heart.

And when I met the maid that realised Your fair creations, and had won her kindness, Say, but for her if aught on earth I prized! Your dreams alone I dreamt, and caught your blindness.

O grief!--but farewell, Love! I will go play me With thoughts that please me less, and less betray me.

1806.