The chain I gave was fair to view,
— — The lute I added sweet in sound,
The heart that offered both was true,
— — And ill deserved the fate it found.

These gifts were charmed by secret spell
— — Thy truth in absence to divine;
And they have done their duty well,
— — Alas! they could not teach thee thine.

That chain was firm in every link,
— — But not to bear a stranger's touch;
That lute was sweet — till thou couldst think
— — In other hands its notes were such.

Let him, who from thy neck unbound
— — The chain which shivered in his grasp,
Who saw that lute refuse to sound,
— — Restring the chords, renew the clasp.

When thou wert changed, they altered too;
— — The chain is broke, the music mute:
'Tis past — to them and thee adieu —
— — False heart, frail chain, and silent lute.