Go! ’Twas a just reward that met thy crime—
But shun the sacrilege another time.
That bloom was made to look at—not to touch;
To worship—not approach—that radiant white;
And well might sudden vengeance light on such
As dared, like thee, most impiously to bite.
Thou shouldst have gazed at distance and admired—
Murmur’d thy admiration and retired.
Thou’rt welcome to the town—but why come here
To bleed a brother poet, gaunt like thee?