The time I’ve lost in wooing,

In watching and pursuing

The light that lies

In woman’s eyes,

Has been my heart’s undoing.

Though wisdom oft has taught me

I scorn the lore that bought me,

My only books

Were woman’s looks,

And folly’s all they’ve taught me.

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Her smile when beauty granted,

I hung with gaze enchanted,

Like him, the sprite,

Whom maids by night

Oft meet in glen that’s haunted.

Like him, too, beauty won me,

But while her eyes were on me,

If once their ray

Was turned away,

Oh! Winds could not outrun me.

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Are those follies going!

And is my proud heart growing

Too cold or wise

For brilliant eyes

Again to set it glowing?

No – vain, alas! the endeavour

From bonds so sweet to sever;–­­

Poor wisdom’s chance

Against a glance

Is now as weak as ever!

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