Page:Destroyers and Other Verses.djvu/55

SONGS OF LA MOUCHE

My soul revolves in helpless grief,
Alone, a prey to pain,
In quivering silence I am scourged
Back to my fault again.

For as a harassed mother waits,
Nor hastens to her baby's bed,
Neglecting his familiar wail,
And coming, finds her infant dead,

So I, who tarried at Love's call,
Must bear that bitter sting,
And at the last his spirit found
My love a faithless thing.

February 18th, 1856.

51