Youthful Desire is like the summer season That lasts not long; for winter must succeed: And so our Passions must give place to Reason; And riper years, more ripe effects must breed. Of all the seed, Youth sowed in vain desires, I reaped nought, but thistles, thorns, and briars. XIII. [Sidenote: _Chi non fa, non falla; chi falla, l'amenda._] "To err and do amiss, is given to men by Kind." "Who walks so sure, but sometimes treads awry?" But to continue still in errors blind, A bad and bestial nature doth descry. "Who proves not; fails not; and brings nought to end: Who proves and fails, may, afterward, amend." XIV. There was but One, and doubtless She the best! Whom I did more than all the world esteem: She having failed, I disavow the rest; For, now, I find "things are not as they seem." "Default of that, wherein our will is crost, Ofttimes, unto our good availeth most." XV. [Sidenote: _Chi va, e ritorna, fa buon viaggio._] I fare like him who, now his land-hope spent, By unknown seas, sails to the Indian shore; Returning thence no richer than he went, Yet cannot much his fortune blame therefore. Since "Whoso ventures forth upon the Main, Makes a good mart, if he return again." XVI. Lovers' Conceits are like a flatt'ring Glass, That makes the lookers fairer than they are; Who, pleased in their deceit, contented pass. Such once was mine, who thought there was none fair, None witty, modest, virtuous but She; Yet now I find the Glass abusèd me. XVII. Adieu, fond Love! the Mother of all Error! Replete with hope and fear, with joy and pain. False fire of Fancy! full of care and terror. Shadow of pleasures fleeting, short, and vain! Die, loathèd Love! Receive thy latest doom! "Night be thy grave! and Oblivion be thy tomb!" XVIII. [Sidenote: _Nihil agenda male agere discimus._] Who would be rapt up into the third heaven To see a world of strange imaginations? Who, careless, would leave all at six and seven, To wander in a labyrinth of Passions? Who would, at once, all kinds of folly prove; When he hath nought to do, then let him love! XIX. What thing is Beauty? "Nature's dearest Minion!" "The Snare of Youth! like the inconstant moon Waxing and waning!" "Error of Opinion!" "A Morning's Flower, that withereth ere noon!" "A swelling Fruit! no sooner ripe, than rotten!" "Which sickness makes forlorn, and time forgotten!" XX. The Spring of Youth, which now is in his prime; Winter of Age, with hoary frosts shall nip! Beauty shall then be made the prey of Time! And sour Remorse, deceitful Pleasures whip! Then, henceforth, let Discretion rule Desire! And Reason quench the flame of CUPID'S fire! XXI.