CANTO II.
29
Madam, Should I my Happiness disown,
And Joys so often reap'd from you alone;
I should to Honour a curst Traytor prove,
Unworthy of your Bed, and lavish Love;
But sooner shall the Gallick Liger join
His blended Waters with the German Rhine,
E'er from my Memory your Love depart,
So safely treasur'd in my constant Heart:
Yet think not Hymen, when my Faith I gave,
Resign'd me to your Yoke, a Woman's Slave.
Had I the Power my Destiny to chuse,
I still had 'scap'd the Matrimonial Noose:
Still had I revell'd, like a free-born Soul,
In lawless Pleasures, and without Controul.
Away! no more your empty Title plead;
What's Love compar'd with such a noble Deed?
How