1

Lesbia! since far from you I've rang'd, 
   Our souls with fond affection glow not; 
You say, 'tis I, not you, have chang'd, 
   I'd tell you why,---but yet I know not. 


2

Your polish'd brow no cares have crost; 
   And Lesbia! we are not much older, 
Since, trembling, first my heart I lost, 
   Or told my love, with hope grown bolder. 


3

Sixteen was then our utmost age, 
   Two years have lingering pass'd away, love! 
And now new thoughts our minds engage, 
   At least, I feel disposed to stray, love! 


4

'Tis I that am alone to blame, 
   I, that am guilty of love's treason; 
Since your sweet breast is still the same, 
   Caprice must be my only reason. 


5

I do not, love! suspect your truth, 
   With jealous doubt my bosom heaves not; 
Warm was the passion of my youth, 
   One trace of dark deceit it leaves not. 


6

No, no, my flame was not pretended; 
   For, oh! I lov'd you most sincerely; 
And though our dream at last is ended 
   My bosom still esteems you dearly. 


7

No more we meet in yonder bowers; 
   Absence has made me prone to roving; 
But older, firmer hearts than ours 
   Have found monotony in loving. 


8

Your cheek's soft bloom is unimpair'd, 
   New beauties, still, are daily bright'ning, 
Your eye, for conquest beams prepar'd, 
   The forge of love's resistless lightning. 


9

Arm'd thus, to make their bosoms bleed, 
   Many will throng, to sigh like me, love! 
More constant they may prove, indeed; 
   Fonder, alas! they ne'er can be, love!