That all the happy are of course the slow;
And thou at home art happy, there wilt stay, }
Dallying ’twixt will and will-not many a day, }
And fret the gloss of hope, and hope itself, away. }
“Jacques is my friend; to him I gave my heart:
‘You see my Brother, see I would not part; 430
Wilt thou an embassy of love disdain?
Go to this sister, and my views explain;
Gloss o’er my failings; paint me with a grace
That Love beholds; put meaning in my face;