Curse you, Heart, you fickle fool,

Whose honeyed words and silken tongue

Promises gaily lead along,

Ledges, scant, above Demise's pool!

Curse also Mind, whose steeled resolve,

Through e'ery belaboured trial, strife, and toil,

Had never graced one obstacle nor foil -

That love round which all thoughts revolve.

Curse you both, myself besides,

Fickle rakes, vagrants violate

Curse also I, wherein both reside

For whom Sense must oscillate

Curse most Love, the worst of Lies,

Death of Reason, curse of Fate.