I could claim I was lame of tongue
And therefore could not speak to you;
Or that the words themselves just hung
Too heavy on my lips to do
What I should have, and tell you true
The way I felt. But that would be
(As even then I think you knew)
A bit too much chicanery;
For I can, between you and me,
Speak just as well as you believe
And showing such mendacity
Would show intention to deceive.
No, I spoke not because I doubted
If you would stay were my love outed.
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