LXVII
False-Seeming lightly giveth mate
To Evil-Tongue, with well-filed prate.
The Lover excused
Fair sir, not always gospel clear
And pure folks whisper in one’s ear
About the streets—pray list you while
I prove these tales but lies most vile.
It scarcely needs that I remind
One so astute, that nought inclined12960
Are folk to love their neighbours who
Find fault with all they say or do,
If they should chance to hear of it,
However dull or small of wit.
I’ve read it as a well-known thing
That men are fond of visiting
The spots where those they love abide.
Now this man loveth you beside
All others, as his dearest friend,
For whom both goods and life he’d spend,12970
Nor fails he to, whene’er ye meet.
Salute you in the public street,
And show you most profound respect,
Yet trow I that no ill effect
His friendship brings you, nor doth he
Enweary you as oft may be
The way with others. If the Rose
His heart so pants for, I suppose
He constantly would here be seen
And by him it had stolen been;12980
Though risk he ran alive to burn
Towards the loved object still he’d turn.
