Make ends meet

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,