'Away, away, your fleeting arts <br />May now betray some simpler hearts; <br />And you will smile at their believing, <br />And they shall weep at your deceiving.' <br /> <br />ANSWER TO THE FOREGOING, ADDRESSED TO MISS ---. <br /> <br />Dear, simple girl, those flattering arts, <br />From which thou'dst guard frail female hearts, <br />Exist but in imagination,-- <br />Mere phantoms of thine own creation; <br />For he who views that witching grace, <br />That perfect form, that lovely face, <br />With eyes admiring, oh! believe me, <br />He never wishes to deceive thee: <br />Once in thy polish'd mirror glance, <br />Thou'lt there descry that elegance <br />Which from our sex demands such praises, <br />But envy in the other raises: <br />Then he who tells thee of thy beauty, <br />Believe me, only does his duty: <br />Ah! fly not from the candid youth; <br />It is not flattery,--'tis truth. <br /> <br />July 1804<br /><br />George Gordon Byron<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lines-written-in-letters-of-an-italian-nun-and-an-english-gentleman/
