ii.
It is my joy to serve thee, 'tis my pride
To own my follies, though anew denied
The chance of wisdom, and for this, who knows?
I shall be counted, ere the season's close,
A time-perverter. Yes! I shall be shamed,
And frown'd upon, and day by day proclaim'd
A foe to virtue, though, in seeking thee
I seek the goal that Virtue's self hath named.