Wouldst have me worthy?—make me so;
But spare on other hearts the blow;
Spare, from the cruel pang, the wo,
The innocent, the bright!
On me thy vengeance!—’Tis my crime
That needs the scourge, and, in my prime,
’Twere fruitful of improving time,
Thy hand should not be light.
VII.
I bend me willing to thy thrall,