Fair Lady, be not thus content
To sail before this wind of praise;
Lovely thou art, but Nature meant
Thee to fulfil her stricter ways.

Some praise thy beauty as they praise
The petals of a bursting rose;
And wilt thou spend thy summer days
In giving ear to such as those?

I see thee as a ship that rides
Before the storm with crowded sail;
But lo, the hull unhappy hides
In waves that speak the coming gale!

O reef the canvas, Lady fair!
A calmer mien befits the age;
Seeing thou hast a cargo rare,
Give heed to Wisdom's pilotage.

Thou say'st: Shall beauty ne'er be seen?
Yea. But in this proud guise alone:
Of all thy beauty be the queen
Who never abdicates her throne.

Thou answerest: Desired would I
Be of those meet for mine assent;
Blindly they worship, if I fly
To such a sickly banishment.

Lady, if thou thy charms dost lay
Like pearls before the eyes of men,
These will they clutch, then slink away
And leave thee desolate again.

Offer no more. Love gives his all,
Mindfully — not for approval sent.
Swift — at a word — beyond recall.
Love is not indolently lent.

Fair is thy body; let it be
An instrument in thine own hand
To be informed with melody,
When the conductor gives command.