Beware, Madam!

Beware, Madam!
Beware, madam, of the witty devil,
The arch intriguer who walks disguised
In a poet’s cloak, his gay tongue oozing evil.
Would you be a Muse? He will so declare you,
Professing blind allegiance,
Yet remain secret and uncommitted.
Poets are men: are single-hearted lovers
Who adore and trust beyond all reason,
Who die honorably at the gates of hell.
The Muse alone is licensed to do murder
And to betray: weeping with guiltless tears
She thrones each victim in her paradise.
But from the Muse that devil borrows an art
That ill becomes a man. Beware, madam:
He plots to strip you bare of woman-pride.
He is capable of seducing your twin sister
On the same pillow, and neither she nor you
Will suspect the act, so close a glamour he sheds.
Alas, being honorably single-hearted,
You adore and trust beyond all reason,
Being no more a Muse than he is poet.