I know not, dearest, when thy face I see, What doth my spirit to thy will
constrain; Already I have done so much for thee, That scarcely more to do
Of all that pass'd I'm well apprized, I heard the doctor catechised, And trust
he'll profit much thereby! Fain would the girls inquire indeed Touching their
lover's faith and creed, And whether pious in the good old way; They think, if
pliant there, us too he will obey.
Thou monster, does not see that this Pure soul, possessed by ardent love, Full
of the living faith, To her of bliss The only pledge, must holy anguish prove,