A noiseless shame

He found her naked; weeping in despair
At the thought that he’d not discover her;
For, if he never knew, then would he care?
To find all that lay hidden? Or prefer
A gentle jaunt right round her hiding place,
Ignoring every sob, as if it stayed
As noiseless as the shame of her disgrace;
When she allowed herself to be waylaid;

He found her naked; so he had her dress
Herself, so he could strip her when he wished
Because his dreams of beauty might digress
Were he to find her nakedness just risked
Familiarity that bred contempt,
From which his naked whore was not exempt.