STANZAS ON WOMAN
STANZAS ON WOMAN
STANZAS ON WOMAN
When lovely Woman stoops to folly,And finds, too late, that menbetray—What charm can soothe her melancholy?What art can wash her guilt away?The only art her guilt to cover,To hide her shame from every eye,To give repentance to her lover,And wring his bosom—is, to die.
When lovely Woman stoops to folly,And finds, too late, that menbetray—What charm can soothe her melancholy?What art can wash her guilt away?The only art her guilt to cover,To hide her shame from every eye,To give repentance to her lover,And wring his bosom—is, to die.
When lovely Woman stoops to folly,And finds, too late, that menbetray—What charm can soothe her melancholy?What art can wash her guilt away?
The only art her guilt to cover,To hide her shame from every eye,To give repentance to her lover,And wring his bosom—is, to die.