Can I forget her cruelty Who, brown miracle, gave you me? Or with unmoisted eyes think on The proud surrender overgone,
( Lowlihead in haughty dress ), Of the tender tyranness? And ere thou for my joy was given, How rough the road to that blest heaven!
With what pangs I fore-expiated Thy cold outlawry from her head; How was I trampled and brought low, Because her virgin neck was so;
How thralled beneath the jealous state She stood at point to abdicate; How sacrificed, before to me She sacrificed her pride and thee;
How did she, struggling to abase Herself to do me strange, sweet grace, Enforce unwitting me to share Her throes and abjectness with her;
Thence heightening that hour when her lover Her grace, with trembling, should discover, And in adoring trouble be Humbled at her humility!
And with what pitilessness was I After slain, to pacify The uneasy manes of her shame, Her haunting blushes!— Mine the blame:
What fair injustice did I rue For what I — did not tempt her to? Nor aught the judging maid might win Me to assoil from HER sweet sin.
But nought were extreme punishment For that beyond-divine content, When my with-thee-first-giddied eyes Stooped ere their due on Paradise!
O hour of consternating bliss When I heavened me in thy kiss; Thy softness ( daring overmuch! ) Profan-ed with my licensed touch;
Worshipped, with tears, on happy knee, Her doubt, her trust, her shyness free, Her timorous audacity!
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