274
FRAGMENTS.
Her world should be of love alone,
Of one fond heart, and only one.
For heartless flattery, and sighs
And looks false as the rainbow's dyes,
Are very worthless. And that morn}
Had Juan from his Inez borne}
All woman's prettiness of scorn;}
Had watched for her averted eye
In vain,—had seen a rival nigh
And smiled upon: he wildly swore
To look on the false one no more,
Who thus could trifle, thus could break
A fond heart for the triumph's sake.—
And yet she loved him,—oh how well
Let woman's own fond spirit tell.
When the warriors met in their high career,
Went not her heart along with his spear?
