O Hell! To Choose Love With Another's

My Nature Is Subdued To What It Works In, Like The Dyer's Hand.

Tears Harden Lust, Though Marble Wear With Raining.

T'is True: There's Magic In The Web Of It.

All Pity Choked With Custom Of Fell Deeds.

The Cheek Is Apter Than The Tongue To Tell An Errand.