FRAGMENT XIX.
L'AMANT MUTIN.
“Sans depit sans legerte je quitte un amant volage,
Et je reprend ma liberte—sans regreter mon esclavage.”
Bernard le Jeune.
I
Nay, if you threaten, all is over;
Ne'er dart that rebel look at me!
I languish too, to turn a rover,
So take your shackles—both are free.
II
No galling steel that chain composes,
Which once I fondly wove for thee;
See! it is form'd of breathing roses,
And dew'd with tears love stole from me.
III
But now if o'er its bloomy flushing
Indiff'rence sheds her chilling air,
And o'er each bud (still faintly blushing)
Congeals each tear that lingers there,
IV
Why break at once the useless fetter,
Since round thy heart no more 'tis bound;
But while its roses thus you scatter,
Think not its thorns my breast shall wound.
V
And yet hadst thou still been that lover,
That all I hoped to find in thee,
I ne'er had turn'd a careless rover,
I ne'er had been thus idly free.
VI
But o'er my lip, in fondness dying,
No sigh of love e'er breath'd its soul,
Until some heart more fondly sighing,
My sigh into existence stole.
VII
And if some tender pangs I cherish'd,
From thee I caught the pleasing anguish;
But when with thee those sweet pangs perish'd,
I felt them in my bosom languish.
