Let him alone, bright lady; for he clips
A fairer lass than you, with all your fire:
Let him alone; he touches sweeter lips
Than yours he hired, as others yet shall hire:
Leave him the quickening pang of clean desire,
Even though vain: nor taint those spring winds blown
From banks of perished bloom: let him alone.
Bitter-sweet melody, that call’st to tryst
Love from the hostile dark, would God thy breath
Might break upon him now through thickening mist,