Ulysses-Like Had Myrrha Known

Ulysses-like had Myrrha known,
Aye, many a man in many a town:
At last she swore that she would be
Constant to one alone, to me.
She fails a trifle: I reprove:
Myrrha no longer swears her love;
One falsehood honest Myrrha spares,
And argues better than she swears.
"Look now," says she, "o'er these fair plains,
What find you there that long remains?
The rocks upon yon ugly hill
Are hard and cold and changeless still."