The Complaint

      away! away!   Tempt me no more, insidious Love:       Thy soothing sway   Long did my youthful bosom prove:   At length thy treason is discern'd,   At length some dear-bought caution earn'd: Away! nor hope my riper age to move.       I know, I see   Her merit. Needs it now be shown,       Alas! to me?   How often, to myself unknown,   The graceful, gentle, virtuous maid   Have I admired! How often said— What joy to call a heart like hers one's own!       But, flattering god,   O squanderer of content and ease       In thy abode   Will care's rude lesson learn to please?   O say, deceiver, hast thou won   Proud Fortune to attend thy throne, Or placed thy friends above her stern decrees?