GUY Losel 's heritage in hand,
He had a daring thought to rove,
And pleasure find from land to land
In an inconstancy of love;
He said Farewell to one, his dove,
Round whom his springtime blood had purled, —
Her heart was his did he command;
She was too modest to reprove
His flourish cool, " I'm going round the world! "

So, unengaged, he did depart,
Handsome and liberal and clever,
Though with some twinges at his heart
From Mary's beauty so to sever;
But frowardness is selfish ever
And Mary's singleness he trusted.
He named Experience and Art
The vagrant quests of his endeavor:
Forbidden fruit, — it was for that he lusted.

He threw himself in British revels,
They had the pall of Mammon's play;
French demoiselles were painted devils,
The Belgic idols broken clay.
Yonder and farther, yet away,
Of flaxen Swedes Guy Losel sated
And pined in Pommeranian levels;
The Viennese were soulless gay.
Spain's lazy loose, they all were pawned or mated.

Europe exhausting, lonely, lost, —
Spite of his wish a Benedict, —
Guy Losel heathen waters crossed,
Himself of pleasure to convict.
He would be loved in candour strict
Where conscience lax allowed of freedom.
Arab, Egyptian, Moor, they tossed
Mocking deceit him to afflict,
And left his heart a wilderness of Edom.

" Is there no land where pleasure reigns
And love halts not its choice to ponder? "
" Not here, for here love has fond pains, —
'Tis in the next land, — yonder! yonder! "
The Persians, Guy was told were fonder;
The Persians pointed Ind to him;
The Hindoo, Java's lapse explains;
Javans at China's frailty wonder,
And China says, " Pleasures in Yedo brim. "

" This world is better than its fame.
Each heart seeks one, so I have found it.
I have the only heart to blame
In all the world — I have been round it.
Some broken heart, I may compound it,
Exchanging with it my desire,
But love is never safe with shame.
One heart I left — O did I wound it? —
Dear Mary's heart! There are no hearts for hire. "

Guy Losel hasted to his city;
Mary was blooming like the rose,
Blushing and debonnaire and witty;
He lost no moment to propose:
Her face grew pale, her lips shut close:
" I am engaged, " at last she spoke,
" You wrote me not. " " O God! in pity,
Reclaim thy word! assuage my woes!
If I have not thy heart, my heart is broke! "

Penance he did; back round the earth
In spirit crawled. The time was long.
Cold was his heart and eke his hearth.
When vows are passed the chain is strong.
But woman loves, though man is wrong:
She could not leave him solitary.
The night of anguish waked to mirth,
His sighing ceased in wedding song.
The land of Houris was the land of Mary.