Poems of Lord Byron — Volume 7 by Lord Byron, Ernest Hartley Coleridge
Answer to ’S Professions of Affection
In hearts like thine ne'er may I hold a place Till I renounce all sense, all shame, all grace— That seat,—like seats, the bane of Freedom's realm, But dear to those presiding at the helm— Is basely purchased, not with gold alone; Add Conscience, too, this bargain is your own— 'T is thine to offer with corrupting art The rotten borough of the human heart.