text: Not at first sight, nor with a dribbed shot,
     Love gave the wound which while I breathe will bleed:
     But known worth did in mine of time proceed,
  Till by degrees it had full conquest got.
  I saw, and liked; I liked, but loved not;
     I loved, but straight did not what love decreed:
     At length to loves decrees I, forced, agreed,
  Yet with repining at so partial lot.
     Now even that footstep of lost liberty
  Is gone, and now like slave-born Muscovite
  I call it praise to suffer tyranny;
  And now employ the remnant of my wit
     To make myself believe that all is well,
     While with a feeling skill I paint my hell.