This way of keeping you: it does me wrong.
It lessens me, in you: and it is no
Subtle device for love, nor any aim.
I cannot say how inexpert I feel,
Keeping this all for the sake of keeping you.
You’re only truly with me, when you run,
Or dance, escape from every dreariness.
So I cannot simply keep you, in this way,
And I cannot know just what to do with you.