You say I would be overwise—that I am jealous of you;
And what if my tight-bended heart should spring beyond control?
My jealous tongue but tells the more the zeal with which I love you.
Oh, we might be so peaceful here, with nothing of reproving
Oh, we might be so happy here, with none to spoil our loving!
Why should a joy be more a joy because, forsooth, 'tis hid?
How can a kiss be more a kiss because it is forbid?
Why should the love you get from her be counted so much gain,
When every smile you give to her but adds unto my pain?
O Rob, you say there is no guilt betwixt the girl and you: