Love's Treacherous Pool

 ("Jeune fille, l'amour c'est un miroir.") 
 
 {XXVI., February, 1835.} 


 Young maiden, true love is a pool all mirroring clear, 
 Where coquettish girls come to linger in long delight, 
 For it banishes afar from the face all the clouds that besmear 
 The soul truly bright; 
 But tempts you to ruffle its surface; drawing your foot 
 To subtilest sinking! and farther and farther the brink 
 That vainly you snatch—for repentance, 'tis weed without root,— 
 And struggling, you sink! 


 

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