It can be tedious to read of love,
I know: especially if it is not
Your own. It triggers every instinct of
Aversion, since it's so awkward to spot
Someone else in their most private state,
And equally, disgusting to observe
Excessive love and not participate.
I beg you, let these humble lines, then, serve
As some apology for my excess
And recollect, to pardon me, a day
When you were (as we all have been: confess!)
A little overzealous in your way
About something that overwhelmed your heart
As love does mine. Then let that take my part.
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