THE SAME CONTINUED <br />Thy ways were not my ways. Thy life was peace, <br />And mine has been a battle. Thou didst store <br />Thy soul's wealth sternly to a sure increase, <br />And thy revenue's much still swelled to more. <br />Thou squanderedst nothing on the pomp of war, <br />The lust of glory. No mad covetous eyes <br />Were thine upon thy neighbour's lands afar, <br />His wealth, his wife, his fenceless vanities. <br />Thou wert a brave, just man, whom all men knew <br />And trusted, and some loved, and thou to me <br />Wert as a tower of strength, a sanctuary <br />To which I fled from the world's maddened crew, <br />Wounded by me, and there with bloodstained hands <br />Clung to the altar of thy innocence.<br /><br />Wilfrid Scawen Blunt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-love-sonnets-of-proteus-part-iv-vita-nova-lxxxvii/
