And, because perfect love suspecteth not,
She found no blot upon his brow. ’Twas good
To take a pleasure in her wedded lot,
And watch the infant creeping where he stood;
And, as he bent his head, she little wist
What kisses burned upon the lips she kissed.
And he, still kind and wise in his decline,
Seeing her trustful calm, had little heart
To shake it. So his conduct gave no sign
Of broken faith; no slurring of his part