I am so truly thine that nevermore

I

I

I

Shall man be found, this side the Stygian shore,

So meek as I, so patient under blame,

And yet, withal, so minded to proclaim

His life-long ardour. For my theme is just:

A heart enslaved, a smile, a broken trust,

A soft mirage, a glimpse of fairyland,

And then the wreck thereof in tears and dust.

iii.

Thou wast not made for murder, yet a glance

T

T

T

May murderous prove; and beauty may entrance,

More than a syren's or a serpent's eye.

And there are moments when a smother'd sigh

May hint at comfort and a murmur'd "No"

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