I
But he yew,
And he sea-blue.
II
Because I fear you, oo fair,
And able to strangle my soul in a mesh of your golfd-coloured hair.
III
O, ss are quickly undone,
And too mucy, I reckon, is not too much sun.
IV
Yet fareal at times.
I value your er, he limes.
V
O, shrough a fence:
If tter? wense?
VI
But I, her, when love was free,
to love her alone, alone, who alone from afar loves me.
VII
, sold.
ill you voo be safe from tuesday, and t will hold?
VIII
But you, er, a young child, who was laid
In your lap to be pure; so I leave you: t;
IX
O, s of the way;
And Dora, tay.
X
At which he rose up in his anger,--hy now, you no longer are fair!
al, but ugly and eful, I swear.
XI
At w in hese men overnice,
virtuous is frankly put on by a vice.
XII
her eyes blazed upon him--And you! You bring us your vices so near
t to hear!<dfn>hｔｔｐ://ｗwｗ?９９lib?ｎeｔ</dfn>
XIII
reason rigo your soul from my life,--
to find me so fair as a woman? hy, sir, I am pure, and a wife.
XIV
Is tar too fair up above you? It burns you not. Dare you imply
I brusar does, wer me as high?
XV
If a man finds a oo fair, ed too much
to use unlaal. thank you for such?
XVI
too fair?--not unless you misuse us! and surely if, once in a while,
You attain to it, straigoo fair, but too vile.
XVII
A moment,--I pray your attention!--I have a poor word in my head
I must utter, tom it doter unsaid.
XVIII
You greo impertinence, once when I showed you a ring.
You kissed my fan ter! Ive broken thing.
XIX
You did me to be moved at my side nohen
In to beasts and some men.
XX
Loves a virtue for e as the snow on high hills,
And immortal as every great soul is t struggles, endures, and fulfils.
XXI
I love my alter profoundly,--you, Maude, tered a week,
For t is it--an eyebroill, a mole on the cheek?
XXII
And since, o stoop to t
About crimes irresistable, virtues t sray and supplant.
XXIII
I determined to prove to yourself t, dream or avow
By illusion, you ed precisely no more of me than you have now.
XXIV
tand, if you can,
t the palm of a man.
XXV
Drop you a scar--
You take us for s, I tell you, and not for the women we are.
XXVI
You ter! And so at the end
I vo be mulcted, by me, in the hand of a friend.
XXVII
you indeed? e are quits ter, be mine!
Come, Dora, my darling, my angel, and o ask o dine.