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	The Song Book 303

	The rival was honour'd, while thou wert wrong'd and scorn'd; Thy crown was of briers, while gold her brows adorn'd ; She woo'd me to temples, while thou lay'st hid in caves ; Her friends were all masters, while thine, alas ! were slaves; Yet cold in the earth at thy feet I would rather be, Than wed what I lov'd not, or turn one thought from thee. They slander thee sorely, who say thy vows are frail— Hadst thou been a false one, thy cheek had look'd less pale ! They say, too, so long thou hast worn thy lingering chains, That deep in thy heart they have printed their servile stains: Oh ! do not believe them—no chain could that soul subdue; Where shineth thy spirit, there liberty shineth too. Words by Moore. Tune / once had a true love,-