Poems (Terry, 1861)/La coquette
LA COQUETTE.
You look at me with tender eyes,That, had you worn a month ago,Had slain me with divine surprise:—But now I do not see them glow.
I laugh to hear your laughter takeA softer thrill, a doubtful tone,—I know you do it for my sake.You rob the nest whose bird is flown.
Not twice a fool, if twice a child!I know you now, and care no moreFor any lie you may have smiled,Than that starved beggar at your door.
He has the remnants of your feast;You offer me your wasted heart!He may enact the welcome guest;I shake the dust off and depart.
If you had known a woman's graceAnd pitied me who died for you,I could not look you in the face,When now you tell me you are "true."
True!—If the fallen seraphs wearA lovelier face of false surpriseThan you at my unmoving air,There is no truth this side the skies.
But thisis true, that once I loved.—You scorned and laughed to see me die;And now you think the heart so provedBeneath your feet again shall lie!
I had the pain when you had power;Now mine the power, who reaps the pain?You sowed the wind in that black hour;Receive the whirlwind for your gain!