II
My lover dissembled that ardor's pure beauty.
I endured undeceived nor pretended; and gave
All that his passion demanded—my duty,
For I loved. And the world?—why, I was his slave!—
Should it worry I pleased him?—Propriety sorrowed,
Uprolling her eyes as occasion, and—well,
That lie, overglossed with a modesty borrowed,
Assisted my fall and the end was—I fell.
III