That changeful mind unchanging gems are not befitting well—
Thus will he think—and what to say, alas! I can not tell.
"He'll think when I to market went, I loitered by the way;
He'll think a willing ear I lent to all the lads might say;
He'll think some other lover's hand, among my tresses noosed,
From the ears where he had placed them, my rings of pearl unloosed;
He'll think, when I was sporting so beside this marble well,
My pearls fell in—and what to say, alas! I can not tell.
"He'll say, I am a woman, and we are all the same;
He'll say I loved when he was here to whisper of his flame—