Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness And on a love-book pray for my success Till I have found each letter in the letter Whereon this month I have been hammering. Repair me with thy presence. Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands. Not being tried and tutored in the world And partly seeing you are beautified How could he see his way to seek out you? Hope is a lover’s staff, walk hence with that. I cannot leave to love, and yet I do. I am impatient of my tarriance. Didst thou but know the inly touch of love…