Be Warm, Be Pure, Be Amorous, But

I Am About To Be Married, And Am Of Course In All The Misery Of A Man In Pursuit Of Happiness.

He Who Is Only Just Is Cruel; Who Upon The Earth Would Live Were All Judged Justly?

I Was Accused Of Every Monstrous Vice By Public Rumour And Private Rancour; My Name, Which Had Been A Knightly Or Noble One, Was Tainted. I Felt That, If What Was Whispered, And Muttered, And Murmured, Was True, I Was Unfit For England; If False, England Was Unfit For Me.

My Slumbers--if I Slumber--are Not Sleep, But A Continuance Of Enduring Thought, Which Then I Can Resist Not: In My Heart There Is A Vigil, And These Eyes But Close To Look Within; And Yet I Live, And Bear The Aspect And The Form Of Breathing Men.

Pure Friendship's Well-feigned Blush.