Or wander in rose-strewn Eastern bowers?
Only choose.
“Oh, carry me then,” cried the fair coquette,
“To the land where never I’ve journeyed yet,
To that shore
Where love is lasting, and change unknown,
And a man is faithful to one alone
Evermore.”
Go, seek that land for a year and a day,
At the end of the time you’ll be still far away