IX

“I’ ll dip contempt’ s broad ladle for a measure

Lest I accept reprieve in such a guise,

Such cheap attainment where I most despise,

Or lull disquiet by such sham of pleasure.

Love, amongst counterfeits and marsh-light gleams

Already arch-impostor, doubly aped

By lust, to parody ( most rarely shaped ),

The consummation of our difficult dreams!”