WHEREIN, LACKING NEWS OF HER, HE IS HEARTSICK WITH FEAR

Still must I listen — still no tidings hear
Of that too lovely, too loved enemy:
What think or what declare perplexes me,
So hope exalts, so sinks my heart with fear.
Her beauty is her peril; none is peer
To her high chastity: such grace hath she
God seeks to snatch earth's purest, it may be,
That the blue bubble of His atmosphere
May boast a new star, a new sun ascended.
And if my dread be proved, then life's long ravage
Dies with life's short repose. O absence savage!
Why didst thou veil me from the clouds that hover?
My brief black legend is as good as over,
The scene breaks off, the comedy is ended!