Lord Byron — The Works of Lord Byron Vol. 1 To——

To——[1] 1. Oh! well I know your subtle Sex, Frail daughters of the wanton Eve,— While jealous pangs our Souls perplex, No passion prompts you to relieve. 2 From Love, or Pity ne'er you fall, By you, no mutual Flame is felt, "Tis Vanity, which rules you all, Desire alone which makes you melt. 3 I will not say no souls are yours, Aye, ye have Souls, and dark ones too, Souls to contrive those smiling lures, To snare our simple hearts for you. 4 Yet shall you never bind me fast, Long to adore such brittle toys, I'll rove along, from first to last, And change whene'er my fancy cloys. 5 Oh! I should be a baby fool, To sigh the dupe of female art— Woman! perhaps thou hast a Soul, But where have Demons hid thy Heart? January, 1807. [Footnote 1: From an autograph MS. at Newstead, now for the first time printed.]