For Amy Lynn Watkins
What shall I write of my desire for thee,
So that I would not cause offense to thy
State, virtuous as I hold it to be,
Nor mar my reputation in your eyes?
How might I explain, without terms vulgar,
The fire burning in my body and mind
Amid dreams – both waking and in slumber –
That keep you in this damn’d lust enshrined?
Though my soul will stand condemn'd for sin,
And I will spend eternity disgraced,
I beg thee, Muse, give me the words to win
Thy hand, and so grant me a mortal grace.
I make no secret of concupiscence,
But seek your love to reclaim innocence.