When with the courage lent me by thy smile, I laid my hands upon thy sacred form, Dared, pa**ion-wild, thy scented mouth to warm With cleaving kisses, unrepelled the while; Was it thy patience or my venturous guile Shook virtue's outworks with a fiery storm, And made her guards the trembling ramparts swarm, To meet a foe who came in friendly stile?
I know not, Love; but since that trustful day I grow more careful of myself, less stained By wor[l]dly touch, as though that touch profaned. I am all thine, more like thee; if thou'lt say Those kisses brushed thy purese bloom away, Say also this, that what thou lost, I gained.