Secret Guilt Is By Silence

You See Through Love, And That Deludes Your Sight, As What Is Straight Seems Crooked Through The Water.

Thoughts Cannot Form Themselves In Words So Horrid As Can Express My Guilt.

All Delays Are Dangerous In War.

So Poetry, Which Is In Oxford Made An Art, In London Only Is A Trade.

Accurst Ambition, How Dearly I Have Bought You.