To Confidence

A WAY , perfidious charmer, fly;
Nor dupe the follies of the heart!
Without reserve all friendships die,
And Love itself has folds of Art.

My secret faults at once I told,
And bar'd my unsuspecting breast;
In gay security was bold,
And partial ears with joy address'd.

In ambush there a serpent lay,
With shaft unseen he took his aim;
Credulity was doom'd his prey,
And biting Wit the serpent's name.

Had cold Mistrust the tale conceal'd,
Affection would have chain'd Esteem;
But against Folly's tale reveal'd,
I arm'd the unrelenting theme.

The genial faith of careless hope,
For an Arcadian scene design'd,
In Tempe's Vale finds ample scope,
But not an inch of Chloe's mind.
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