For better far, as sages tell,
From fickle fair to bid adieu,
Than fall beneath the magic spell
Of charms the heart may ever rue.
Beware, if false, of beauty bright,
Beware that luring beacon’s ray,
For, oh! the love that trusts its light,
May drift a wreck ere dawn of day.
But if thou’rt true as thou art fair,
Art leal in heart, though seeming gay,