Has passed those treacherous lips, there glow
New beauties mantling o’er thy cheek;
And thee the youth, thee only seek.
It profits thee to be forsworn
By thy dead mother’s hallowed urn;
By heaven, and each mute nightly sign,
And every deathless power divine.
Yes: Venus laughs well-pleased, and lo!
The gentle Nymphs are laughing too;
And Cupid, who his burning darts