O, My Lord, You Said That Idle

No .... Holy Father, Throw Away That Thought. Believe Not That The Dribbling Dart Of Love Can Pierce A Complete Bosom.

Confusion Now Hath Made His Masterpiece.

Dumb Jewels Often, In Their Silent Kind, More Than Quick Words, Do Move A Woman's Mind.

Prophet May You Be! If I Be False, Or Swerve A Hair From Truth, When Time Is Old And Hath Forgot Itself, When Waterdrops Have Worn The Stones Of Troy, And Blind Oblivion Swallowed Cities Up, And Mighty States Characterless Are Grated To Dusty Nothing, Yet Let Memory, From False To False, Among False Maids In Love, Upbraid My Falsehood!

O, What Men Dare Do! What Men May Do! What Men Daily Do, Not Knowing What They Do.