O woman, let thy heart not cleave
  To any poet’s soul;
For he the muse will never leave,
  But follow to life’s goal.

Then trust him not, he is not thine,
  Whate’er he seems to be;
Strong unseen tendrils round him twine,
  And keep him still from thee.

His words with passion are athrill,
  And bear contagious fire;...