CANDOUR. THE warmest friend, I ever prov'd, My bitterest foe I see: The kindest maid I ever lov'd, Is false to love and me. But shall I make the angry vow, Which tempts my wavering mind? Shall dark suspicion cloud my brow, And bid me shun mankind? Avaunt, thou hell-born fiend! no more Pretend my steps to guide; Let me be cheated o'er and o'er, But let me still confide. If this be folly, all my claim To wisdom I resign; But let no sage presume to name His happiness with mine.