Tancred A Tale; And Other Poems. By the Author of Conrad, A Tragedy [i.e. Alfred Bunn] |
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WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF A LADY,
TO A GENTLEMAN,
WITH A PRESENT OF A RING. |
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WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF A LADY, TO A GENTLEMAN, WITH A PRESENT OF A RING.
Methinks, dearest John, 'tis a mighty fine thing,To receive from a Lady, a gay golden Ring!
Who relies on your friendship, your truth, and your honor,
To wear it till death, for the sake of the donor.
For value intrinsic, it has not its fellow,
Like the handkerchief puff'd in the play by Othello;
'Twas moulded by Sybils, whose magic will linger
Whenever the talisman circles your finger.
Your hand, tho' already so white, shall be whiter,
Your voice more persuasive, your eyes shall be brighter,
And hearts, which now only come in by the dozen,
Be they hard, be they soft, be they warm, be they frozen,
Shall melt at the touch of your hand in the dance,
Be pierc'd by a sigh, or a word, or a glance!
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That the stars in the sky 'twere as easy to count.
But tho' friends may admire, and foes may abuse it,
Beware how you give it, or lend it, or lose it;
For each charm, like the blue mists of morn, will disperse,
And each blessing be chang'd to a horrible curse:
Your eyes shall wax dim, and your voice shall turn hoarse,
And your lily-white hand shall be clumsy and coarse;
Your mind shall grow dull, tho' so bright and so clever,
And my friendship you forfeit forever and ever!
| Tancred | |