Poems (Rowe)/The Betrayer
THE BETRAYER
YOU found me pure, and innocent, and fair;In years a child, and with no thought of care. God-fearing, trusting; with a heart of praise For all the joyousness of Youth's bright days.
And then you came; with subtle art did fire My young imaginings with Love's desire. You taught me Passion's all compelling will Lifers Morning with enchanting dreams to fill.
And then you left me: ruined; desperate, Oh! double-dyed Betrayer! to my fate. What am I now? A thing so vile, and mean, No blood of holy Saint could wash me clean.
Could I with Curses damn your feeble Soul, I'd willingly lose mine, and deem the whole Of God's Eternity poor price to pay For power to wreak His Vengeance, and repay.