Go, Cold and Fickle Trifler

Go, cold and fickle trifler! go-- And bear thy traitor-smiles afar, Where none, like me, too well shall know, How hollow, and how vain, they are. Go,--light of heart, and false of faith! But never, till thine hour of death, Dare with those treacherous lips profane The sacredness of love again:-- No feeling of thy soul can claim So sweet, so true, so pure a name-- Thine ev'ry look, and sigh, and tone, Is vow'd to vanity alone! I would my fortune had been cast In some bright epoch of the past When heroes, of high thought, and worth, With lofty bearing trod the earth And won, to grace a gallant name, The guerdon of a fadeless fame: Oh! I had bow'd in spirit then, To god-like deeds, of god-like men; And with the gen'rous, and the brave, Had joy'd to find a home--and grave! From visions of the olden time Chivalrous--noble--and sublime-- I turn to trace thy mean career :-- Believe not thou wert ever dear! Deem not, that I could love thee!--No!-- I have but feign'd as thou hast done, And trifled with the trifler! --so, Still may the mask thou wear'st be known;-- And while thy bosom's dark recess Doth veil its subtle selfishness, May'st thou be fated but to find, Where'er thou go'st, a kindred mind!