I WRIT how once I wander’d from thy side,
Serving the strong suggestions of my blood,
Only to prove from worse things vainly tried
How far more precious grew thy sum of good.
If I so lov’d thee, what is my defence,
That thy dear love fail’d then my steps to stay,
That idle hours were idly given to sense,
And soul forsaken at the call of clay?
O let love grant excuse; my sensual part
Dwelt ever far from pure untainted thee;
It held no conversation with my heart,
Nor, us’d or check’d, could be thine injury.
If once it triumph’d, carrying me away,
It stole but earth; my soul did with thee stay.