 | Rhapsodies |  |
141
PARODY, In answer to the former.
[If lovers were not rash and young]
If lovers were not rash and young,
I might believe thy boasting tongue;
I might believe, that nought could move
Thy soul to yield again to love.
I might believe thy boasting tongue;
I might believe, that nought could move
Thy soul to yield again to love.
But Love will linger near the fold,
By streams and rocks, where winds blow cold;
While thou, to ev'ry strain still dumb,
Wilt yet entreat him more to come.
By streams and rocks, where winds blow cold;
While thou, to ev'ry strain still dumb,
Wilt yet entreat him more to come.
The rose will brighter deck the field,
Thy sternness then to love shall yield;
Thine heart of ice, thy words of gall,
Will bloom love's spring, the mask will fall.
Thy sternness then to love shall yield;
Thine heart of ice, thy words of gall,
Will bloom love's spring, the mask will fall.
142
The vines for which thou shun'st Love's roses,
The grape more welcome than Love's posies,
Must wither soon and be forgotten,
In passion ripe, in mem'ry rotten.
The grape more welcome than Love's posies,
Must wither soon and be forgotten,
In passion ripe, in mem'ry rotten.
The woven straw, the ivy buds,
The coral clasps, and amber studs,
To these thou'lt fly, for they will move
Thy frozen heart to melt with love.
The coral clasps, and amber studs,
To these thou'lt fly, for they will move
Thy frozen heart to melt with love.
No more will wine thy laughter breed;
Thy toasts neglected—thou wilt need
Those heavenly joys, which only move
With rapt'rous bliss and endless love.
Thy toasts neglected—thou wilt need
Those heavenly joys, which only move
With rapt'rous bliss and endless love.
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