In this vile garb, the distaff, web, and woof,
Were fitter for me: Love is for the free!
I am not dazzled by this splendid roof;
Whate'er thy power, and great it seems to be,
Heads bow, knees bend, eyes watch around a throne,
And hands obey—our hearts are still our own."
CXXVIII.
This was a truth to us extremely trite;
Not so to her, who ne'er had heard such things:
She deemed her least command must yield delight,