O had she not been fair and thus unkind, br Then had no finger pointed at my lightness; br The world had never known what I do find, br And clouds obscure had shaded still her brightness. br Then had no censor's eye these lines survey'd, br Nor graver brows have judg'd my Muse so vain; br No sun my blush and error had bewray'd, br Nor yet the world had heard of such disdain. br Then had I walk'd with bold erected face; br No downcast look had signified my miss; br But my degraded hopes, with such disgrace br Did force me groan out griefs and utter this. br For, being full, should not I then have spoken, br My sense oppress'd had fail'd, and heart had broken.