The Suspicion Upon His Over-Much Familiarity With A Gentlewoman.

And must we part, because some say     Loud is our love, and loose our play,     And more than well becomes the day?     Alas for pity! and for us     Most innocent, and injured thus!     Had we kept close, or played within,     Suspicion now had been the sin,     And shame had followed long ere this,     T' have plagued what now unpunished is.     But we, as fearless of the sun,     As faultless, will not wish undone     What now is done, since where no sin     Unbolts the door, no shame comes in.     Then, comely and most fragrant maid,     Be you more wary than afraid     Of these reports, because you see     The fairest most suspected be.     The common forms have no one eye     Or ear of burning jealousy     To follow them: but chiefly where     Love makes the cheek and chin a sphere     To dance and play in, trust me, there     Suspicion questions every hair.     Come, you are fair, and should be seen     While you are in your sprightful green:     And what though you had been embraced     By me - were you for that unchaste?     No, no! no more than is yond' moon     Which, shining in her perfect noon,     In all that great and glorious light,     Continues cold as is the night.     Then, beauteous maid, you may retire;     And as for me, my chaste desire     Shall move towards you, although I see     Your face no more. So live you free     From fame's black lips, as you from me.