Given myself to hers in Virtue ye sake,
Dared pass through the old wood once deigned,
His greetings sink but only his virtues fake,
As daring for the way in reproach he laid,
Branded my soul with an ever tighter mark
That grieves even the tree forbidden its bark,
So closely watched as he stood thus watching,
The curdle from the night as quiet aching,
Slowly languished all pain he once fared,
Bares the token once virtue he grossly made,
Abruptly stops in the midst of the abyss,
So too once his sight was complete now amiss,
Walks slowly forward in that lonely wood again
And loses the virtue one had, the lonely gain;
Kneels before Her that vacant stood,
Pleads once more for a greater good.

Nature, Nocturnal, Poetry, Works
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