Gordon Bottomley - Juliet to Rosaline lyrics

Sweet coz, I thank you for your prudish vow And its oppressive honourable weight, That bade you flout the youth whose costly show Of love might make even you importunate. In the walled garden of my vestal thoughts I loitered coldly happy, purely pale, When lo, carnation-bearing love's mad notes Came thrush-clear past a whitethorn's truthless veil. I take your leavings gladly, having learned That Christ's feast-scraps are savoured as His feast: Fair saintly coward, she who never burned With earthly pa**ion knows of heaven the least— I'll not despise your poor virginity That spites itself and so enriches me.