Read, or read not, what I am now essaying
To show ye what ye are in every way.
As little as the moon stops for the baying
Of wolves, will the bright Muse withdraw one ray
From out her skies—then howl your idle wrath!
While she still silvers o'er your gloomy path.
VIII.
"Fierce loves and faithless wars"—I am not sure
If this be the right reading—'t is no matter;
The fact's about the same, I am secure;