CXLI <br /> <br />What sorry mark of nature can there be, <br />That stamps me false before thy partial sight, <br />And clouds the highest peaks of love's delight <br />With moody doubt and gloomy fantasy? <br />I do not dare to question thy decree; <br />I must believe my truth to be as slight <br />As any cheat's; thy judgment is so right, <br />So sad, so filled with tender charity! <br />I own my falsehood, if thou'lt have it so; <br />How great, alas, to others it has been, <br />None so completely as thyself can know. <br />If for thy sake I acted out the scene; <br />Feigned, cozened, lied, to hide our love from show, <br />Art thou the one to call my soul unclean?<br /><br />George Henry Boker<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-cxli-2/
