XXII
I have known beauties cold and raw
As Winter in their purity,
Striking the intellect with awe
By dull insensibility,
And I admired their common sense
And natural benevolence,
But, I acknowledge, from them fled;
For on their brows I trembling read
The inscription o’er the gates of Hell
“Abandon hope for ever here!”
Love to inspire doth woe appear
To such—delightful to repel.
Perchance upon the Neva e’en
Similar dames ye may have seen.