And be to him the friend that you appear }
To this soft girl?”—would not some jealous fear }
Proclaim your thoughts, that he approach’d too near? }
But Henry, blinded still, presumed to write
Of one in whom Cecilia would delight:
A mild and modest girl, a gentle friend,
If, as he hoped, her kindness would descend—
But what he fear’d to lose or hoped to gain 430
By writing thus, he had been ask’d in vain.
It was his purpose, every morn he rose,