My fault being that I kept the throne
Of a Jove vacant in my breast,
And when Apollo claimed the place
I was too loyal to my Jove;
Unmindful how the masks of love
Transfigure all things to our face.
Ah, well! if I have lost to fate
The greatest boon that heaven disposes;
And closed upon myself the gate
To fields of bliss; 'tis on these roses,