LXXIV.

Then there were sighs, the deeper for suppression, And stolen glances, sweeter for the theft,

And burning blushes, though for no transgression, Tremblings when met, and restlessness when left; All these are little preludes to possession,

Of which young passion cannot be bereft, And merely tend to show how greatly love is Embarrass'd at first starting with a novice,

LXXV.

Poor Julia's heart was in an awkward state;

She felt it going, and resolved to make

The noblest efforts for herself and mate,

For honour's, pride's, religion's, virtue's sake;

Her resolutions were most truly great,

And almost might have made a Tarquin quake; She pray'd the Virgin Mary for her grace, As being the best judge of a lady's case.

LXXVI.

She vow'd she never would see Juan more,
And next day paid a visit to his mother,

And look'd extremely at the opening door,
Which, by the Virgin's grace, let in another;
Grateful she was, and yet a little sore-
Again it opens, it can be no other,

"Tis surely Juan now-No! I'm afraid
That night the Virgin was no further pray'd.

LXXVII.

She now determined that a virtuous woman
Should rather face and overcome temptation,
That flight was base and dastardly, and no man
Should ever give her heart the least sensation;
That is to say, a thought beyond the common
Preference, that we must feel upon occasion,
For people who are pleasanter than others,
But then they only seem so many brothers.

LXXVIII.

And even if by chance-and who can tell?
The devil's so very sly-she should discover
That all within was not so very well,

And, if still free, that such or such a lover

Might please perhaps, a virtuous wife can quell

Such thoughts, and be the better when they're over;

And if the man should ask, 'tis but denial:

I recommend young ladies to make trial.

LXXIX.

And then there are such things as love divine,
Bright and immaculate, unmix'd and pure,
Such as the angels think so very fine,

And matrons, who would be no less secure,
Platonic, perfect, "just such love as mine:"

Thus Julia said—and thought so, to be sure, And so I'd have her think, were I the man

On whom her reveries celestial ran.

LXXX.

Such love is innocent, and

may exist

Between young persons without any danger, A hand may first, and then a lip be kist;

For my part, to such doings I'm a stranger, But hear these freedoms form the utmost list Of all o'er which such love may be a ranger: If people go beyond, 'tis quite a crime, But not my fault-I tell them all in time.

LXXXI.

Love, then, but love within its proper limits,
Was Julia's innocent determination
In young Don Juan's favour, and to him its
Exertion might be useful on occasion;
And, lighted at too pure a shrine to dim its

Etherial lustre, with what sweet persuasion He might be taught, by love and her together— I really don't know what, nor Julia either.

LXXXII.

Fraught with this fine intention, and well fenced

In mail of proof-her purity of soul,

She, for the future of her strength convinced,
And that her honour was a rock, or mole,
Exceeding sagely from that hour dispensed
With any kind of troublesome control;
But whether Julia to the task was equal
Is that which must be mentioned in the sequel.

LXXXIII.

Her plan she deem'd both innocent and feasible,
And, surely, with a stripling of sixteen

Not scandal's fangs could fix on much that's seizable,
Or if they did so, satisfied to mean

Nothing but what was good, her breast was peaceable— A quiet conscience makes one so serene!

Christians have burnt each other, quite persuaded

That all the Apostles would have done as they did.