Classic Poem

Long time I lingered near the place, distraught,
Till Reason from her observation tower,
On which she scans the country all about,
Came forth, approaching nigh to where I stood.
She's not too young or old, too tall or short,
Too fat or lean. Her eyes like two stars shone.
She wore a noble crown upon her head.
A queen she might have been, but more did seem,
To judge by her appearance and her face,
An angel come, perhaps, from Paradise.
Nature could hardly frame a work so fair.
'Twas God himself, unless the Scriptures lie,
Who in his image and his likeness formed
This godlike one, and her with power endowed
To rescue men from rash and foolish acts,
Provided that her counsel they'll believe.
Reason addressed me as I madly wept:
" Fair friend, your youth and folly brought this pain
And this dismay, when on an ill omened day
You yielded to the springtime's pleasant spell
Which so bewitched your heart. 'Twas evil hour
At which you came into that shady park
Of which the key is kept by Idleness,
Who ope'd the gate for you. One is a fool
Who makes acquaintance with that tempting maid,
Whose sweet companionship is perilous.
You've been deceived and brought to grief by her;
For had not Idleness conducted you
Into the garden that is named Delight
The God of Love had never seen you there.
Recover from your foolishness at once —
For foolishly you've acted — be on guard
That never more such counsel you accept,
By which you have been made to act the sot.
Unwise is he who would chastise himself!
But 'tis no wonder; men are fools in youth.
Now I should like to give you this advice:
Into oblivion consign that god
Who has so weakened, tortured, conquered you.
I see no other way to healthful cure;
For felon Danger lies in wait for you,
And you should wish to test his might no more.
Yet Danger's not to be compared with Shame,
My daughter, who the blooms defends and guards,
Aided by Fear, who surely is no fool,
But one whom all most surely should beware.
With these is Evil Tongue, who none permits
To touch the roses. Ere the deed is done,
He'll publish it abroad a hundredfold.
You're dealing with hardhearted customers!
Consider, then, which is the better plan:
To beat retreat or rashly persevere
In courses that will fill your life with pain.
" Nothing but foolishness is this disease
Called love; 'twere better it were folly named.
A ne'er-do-well is every man in love;
No profitable task he undertakes.
He leaves his learning if he be a clerk;
Nor can he thrive in any other craft.
He pays more penance than a monk or friar.
The pain he feels is measureless; the joy
Comes but by chance and lives but a short life,
Only to fade away. How many a man
I've seen laboriously exert himself
Only to fail at last unutterably!
" It was not by my counsel that you gave
Yourself unto the God of Love; your heart —
Too fickle far — led to this foolishness.
Most easily you started in the game,
But hard 'twill be to issue out of it.
Cast aside love, which makes life valueless.
From day to day it will entrench itself
If you allow this folly to remain.
Now firmly seize the bits between your teeth;
Resist the guidance of your stubborn heart,
Against whose will you'll have to use some force.
You will be ditched if passion keep the reins. "
Then angrily I answered this rebuke:
" Madam, I beg you, stop this chastisement.
You tell me that I should oppose my heart,
Which Love now dominates. But do you think
Love would consent that I the heart should rule
Which I have ceded to him utterly?
You counsel what can never come to pass.
Love has such domination o'er my heart
That to my wishes it no more responds.
His jurisdiction o'er it is so strong
That he has even locked it with a key.
Please let me be; in vain you waste your speech.
I'd rather die than that I should deserve
Love's charge of treason and of falsity.
I care not whether I be praised or blamed
For loving well. But her who chides I hate. "
Then Reason left, seeing her sermoning
Could not avail to turn me from my chosen course.