When first your friends heard news of our new love
We seemed, I thought, to garner their respect
But gauntlet’s constant challenge, face to glove,
Mutated fans to storm-crows of neglect

The masks you deign to claim as friends, I fear,
Are dropped like embers when you take your leave
And at those rough-shod times, it seems I hear
Anew, “When first we practice to deceive”

So race a drink with those you like, tonight,
They’ll bend my ear tomorrow with your crimes
Like Hippocrene, they blush and blurt insight
Assuming, “he’ll vouchsafe our pantomimes”

You run with those inside your pleasure dome
Ignoring he who yielded you his home