When the Birds Go North Again/Hate
HATE
IF hate be unforgivable. Then must I unforgiven be. For I shall hate one woman, Lord, For all eternity.
Forgiven or not, I hate her so That did she, burnt with fever, lie, I'd spill the ice-cup that she craved And laugh to see her die.
Yea, Lord, yea, Lord—I hate her so That, were she sent to deepest hell, I'd pray the awful fires might do Their part slow—slow—and well.