I

        But he yew,

        And he sea-blue.

        II

        Because I fear you, oo fair,

        And able tle my soul in a mesh of yolfd-coloured hair.

        III

        O, ss are quickly undone,

        And too mucy, I re, 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! Y us your vices so near

        t    to hear!

        XIII

        reaso 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, on 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 determio prove to yourself t,    dream or avow

        By illusion, you ed precisely no more of me than you have now.

        XXIV

        tand, if you ,

        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!

        e, Dora, my darling, my angel, and o ask o dine.
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