But rather brings strange sorrows of its own.
Various the ways in which our souls are tried;
Love often fails where most our faith relied.
Some wayward heart may win, without a thought,
That which thine own by sacrifice had bought;
May carelessly aside the treasure cast
And yet be madly worshipped to the last;
Whilst thou forsaken, grieving, left to pine,
Vainly may’st claim his plighted faith as thine;
Vainly his idol’s charms with thine compare,