![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.