GO, little book, and to the world impart The faithful image of an am'rous heart; Those who love's dear, deluding pains have known, May in my fatal stories read their own. Those who have lived from all its torments free, May find the thing they never felt, by me; Perhaps, advis'd, avoid the gilded bait, And warn'd by my example, shun my fate. While with calm joy, safe landed on the coast, I view the waves on which I once was toss'd. Love is a medley of endearments, jars, Suspicions, quarrels, reconcilements, wars; Then peace again. Oh! would it not be best To chase the fatal poison from our breast? But since so few can live from passion free, Happy the man, and only happy he, Who with such lucky stars begins his love, That his cool judgment does his choice approve. Ill-grounded passions quickly wear away; What's built upon esteem can ne'er decay. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CRAFTSMAN by MARCUS B. CHRISTIAN TO MY GRANDMOTHER; SUGGESTED BY A PICTURE BY MR. ROMNEY by FREDERICK LOCKER-LAMPSON THESEUS, SELECTION by BACCHYLIDES THE NUN AT COURT by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN BABEL: THE GATE OF GOD by GORDON BOTTOMLEY A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 33 by THOMAS CAMPION SONNETS ON EMINENT CHARACTERS: 11. TO RICHARD SHERIDAN by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |