And thou, priest-like, didst worship me! Alas! Alas!
My heart I cultivated just as thou desiredst.
Thou thoughtest ’twas fond. I knew thou it with love inspiredst.
Like potherbs o’er the fire, thou addedst what thou wouldst,
Sharp vinegar, or honey. What thou wishedst, thou couldst.165
If blasphemy I’ve uttered, lo, I faith profess!
My life is in thy hands; but, be not pitiless!
I wot not thou wouldst prove imperious, like a king;
So, like an ass turned loose, before thee took my fling.
Thy pardon now I crave. Let me know joy again!