Classic Poem

LIB. II. Ode VIII.— THE ROGUERIES OF BARINE .

IN BARINEN.

Barinè! if, for each untruth,
Some blemish left a mark uncouth,
With loss of beauty and of youth,
Or Heaven should alter
The whiteness of a single tooth—
O fair defaulter!

Then might I trust thy words—But thou
Dost triumph o'er each broken vow;
Falsehood would seem to give thy brow
Increased effulgence:
Men still admire—and gods allow
Thee fresh indulgence.

Swear by thy mother's funeral urn—
Swear by the stars that nightly burn
(Seeming in silent awe to mourn
O'er such deception)—
Swear by each Deity in turn,
From Jove to Neptune:

Venus and all her Nymphs would yet
With smiles thy perjury abet—
Cupid would laugh—Go on! and let
Fresh courage nerve thee:
Still on his bloodstained wheel he'll whet
His darts to serve thee!

Fast as they grow, our youths enchain,
Fresh followers in beauty's train:
While they who loved thee first would fain,
Charming deceiver,
Within thy threshold still remain,
And love, for ever!

Their sons from thee all mothers hide;
All thought of thee stern fathers chide;
Thy shadow haunts the new-made bride,
And fears dishearten her,
Lest thou inveigle from her side
Her life's young partner.