XXX.

Her reign is past, her gentle glories gone: But trust not this; too easy Youth, beware! A mortal Sovereign holds her dangerous throne, And thou may'st find a new Calypso there. Sweet Florence[133] could another ever share This wayward, loveless heart, it would be thine: But checked by every tie, I may not dare To cast a worthless offering at thy shrine, Nor ask so dear a breast to feel one pang for _mine_.