Limpidly truthful. For ability—
All's in the rough yet. His first taste of life
Seems to have somehow gone against the tongue:
He travelled, tried things—came back, tried still more—
He says he 's sick of all. He 's fond of me
After a certain careless-earnest way
I like: the iron 's crude,—no polished steel
Somebody forged before me. I am rich—
That 's not the reason, he 's far richer: no,
Nor is it that he thinks me pretty,—frank