To a new noose would yield his fantasy.
Strive thou that pure and spotless evermore
The law of holy wedlock may remain,
Turn thou thy mind thereto with all thy power,
Unfurl thy banner on this fair champaign,
See what sweet fruit he hopes, what lovely flower,
For little toil, who doth himself constrain
To bear this yoke, as duty bids and right;
For, though a burden, 'tis a burden light.
Thou canst, if thou no more rememberest