TO LORENZO. Go, distant shores and brighter conquests seek, But my affection will your scorn survive! For not from radiant eyes or crimson cheek My fondness I, or you your power derive; — Nor sprung the passion from your fancied love; To me, your smiles no dear delusion caused; I saw you tower my humble hopes above, And, ere I loved, I shuddered, trembled, paused. But I was formed to prize superior worth, And felt 't was virtue you, with love, to see; I hoped a choice so glorious might call forth Merit like yours, Lorenzo, e'en in me. — Then go, assured that mine's no transient flame, For on your worth it feeds, and lives upon your fame.