XXVI

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XXVI

With unanimity complete,

Condemn not weak Tattiana mine;

Do not cold-bloodedly repeat

The sneers of critics superfine;

And you, O maids immaculate,

Whom vice, if named, doth agitate

E’en as the presence of a snake,

I the same admonition make.

Who knows? with love’s consuming flame

Perchance you also soon may burn,

Then to some gallant in your turn

Will be ascribed by treacherous Fame

The triumph of a conquest new.

The God of Love is after you!