Hastily Of Reputations Poem by James McLain

Of your reputation, and so hastily made,
was it before them or another?
And of cause?
With or with out it, whom saw.
Justified?
And of all of them and of they whom heard it.
Did they rejoice at your fall.
Far enough at the end to give pause?
And were you then, even now or naught, ashamed?
And of blame the game, issues.
As to when one thought of she,
thet he never had when both are thus made sad.
Would I even then of that when lily kisses, rose.
And in truthknotted haste, can it wait for one or no?
When neither rose nor lily in due time did I ever come to know.