DENIAL

But is it so that I must never kiss

Thee on the brow, or smooth thy silken hair?

Never close down thine eyelids with Love's prayer,

Or fold my arms about my new-found bliss?

Must I unto the courses of my age

Worship afar, lest haply I profane

The temple that is now my holy fane,

For which my song is given as a gage?

Shall I who cry to all, “Come not within

The bounds where I my lady have enshrined;

I am her cavalier”; shall I not win

One dear caress, the rich exchequer find

Of thy soft cheek? If thou command, my lips

Shall find surcease but at thy fingertips.