'Tis an old lesson—Time approves it true,

And those who know it best, deplore it most;

When all is won that all desire to woo,

The paltry prize is hardly worth the cost:

Youth wasted—Minds degraded—Honour lost—[es]

These are thy fruits, successful Passion! these![135]

If, kindly cruel, early Hope is crost,

Still to the last it rankles, a disease,

Not to be cured when Love itself forgets to please.