Florio the wild, the frolic, and the loud,
Of curb impatient and of outrage proud;
Skill’d on the turf, familiar in the stews,
Whose lawless senses not a vice refuse,
But young and titled, amorous and gay,
Deigns at thy feet his nuptial wreath to lay,
Admir’d ROSILDA!—ah, in time beware,
Trust not thy peace to the resplendent snare,
Nor from that man of errors hope to prove
The faith and tenderness of wedded love!
Thy fond attention, thy unswerving truth,
Thy beauties, given in such a morn of youth,
As fairly promises their rising sway
A brighter noon and long-enduring day,
While each auxiliar elegance combines,
The wit that sparkles, and the sense that shines.
These rare endowments!—ah, they all are vain,
Habitual vices boast a stronger chain!
Inured to change, change only can impart
Exhaustless transport to the sensual heart.
Blow not the bubble hope, that peerless charms
May bind the wedded wanderer to thine arms,
When soft attractions in a stranger face,
The wanton glance, the gay, voluptuous grace,
Venal, or libertine, his faith invade
Who asks not virtue’s or religion’s aid!
As soon expect, on yonder grassy height
The new-fall’n drifts of April’s winter’d night
Lasting should prove, as when on Jura’s side,
Their pure expanse may Summer suns deride!
Lo! on our humbler mountains dawns the day,
And the warm south-wind meets him on his way;
Wide o’er their fleecy tops the sun shall glow,
And where is then their dissoluble snow?