Blushless, tho' guilty, with uplifted eyes,"'Tis false, my life, by yon bright Heaven," she cries.Himself he fools, and madly feeds his grief,Who from conviction seeks the sad relief.Wretched I saw thy wantonness unsought,By thee in sleep secure and eyeless thought;With glances on each other how you hung!How ev'ry nod had more than half a tongue!How roll'd thy glowing eyes! how lewd they spoke!E'en from thy artful fingers language broke;While writing on the board with pens they vied,And the spilt wine the want of ink supplied.The silent speech too well I understood,For to deceive a lover yet who could?Tho' thou didst write in a laconic hand,And words for sentences were taught to stand.Now ended was the treat, and ev'ry guestIndulg'd his ease, and lay compos'd to rest:Your close, lascivious kisses then I spied,And something more than lips to lips applied;