Maids, not to you my mind doth change


    Ταῖς κάλαις ὕμμιν [τὸ] νόημα τὧμον
    οὐ διάμειπτον·

    MAIDS, not to you my mind doth change ; 
    Men I defy, allure, estrange, 
    Prostrate, make bond or free : 
    Soft as the stream beneath the plane 
    To you I sing my love's refrain ; 
    Between us is no thought of pain, 
    Peril, satiety. 

    Soon doth a lover's patience tire, 
    But ye to manifold desire 
    Can yield response, ye know 
    When for long, museful days I pine, 
    The presage at my heart divine ; 
    To you I never breathe a sign 
    Of inward want or woe. 

    When injuries my spirit bruise, 
    Allaying virtue ye infuse 
    With unobtrusive skill:
    And if care frets ye come to me 
    As fresh as nymph from stream or tree, 
    And with your soft vitality 
    My weary bosom fill.