321.
How much more wilt thou chide, O raw divine,
For that I drink, and am a libertine?
Thou hast thy weary beads, and saintly show,
Leave me my cheerful sweetheart, and my wine!
322.
Against my lusts I ever war, in vain,
I think on my ill deeds with shame and pain;
I trust Thou wilt assoil me of my sins,
But even so, my shame must still remain.
323.
In these twin compasses, O Love, you see
One body with two heads, like you and me,
Which wander round one centre, circlewise,
But at the last in one same point agree.
321. C. L. N. A. I. J.
322. C. L. N. A B. I.
323. C. L. N. A. I. Mr. Fitzgerald quotes a similar figure used by the poet Donne, for which see Ward's "English Poets," i. 562. The two heads are the points of the compasses.
