HOLD! let the heartless perjurer go! Speak not! strike not! he is @3my@1 foe, From me, me only, comes the blow -- I will repay him woe for woe; Look in my eyes! my eyes are dry, I breathe no plaint, I heave no sigh, But -- will avenge me ere I die. Think you that I shall basely rest, And know the bosom mine hath prest, Is couched upon a colder breast? Think you that I shall yield the West, The Orient soul @3my@1 nature nurst, Till the black seed of treachery burst And blossomed to this deed accurst? My rival! O! her glance is meek, Her faltering presence wan, and weak As the faint flush that tints her cheek. 'Tis not on @3her@1 that I would wreak My vengeance -- sooner would I wring Life from an insect-birth of spring Than palter with so poor a thing. But he -- I tell you if he flew, As it was once his wont to do, Repentant -- pleading -- quick to woo, With all his wild heart flaming through The glance of passion -- it were sweet, Yea, more! 'twere righteous, just, and meet, To slay him kneeling at my feet! He @3shall not@1 wed her; by Heaven's light He shall not; o'er my lurid sight Throbs a thick fire; the ancient might Of a stern race is stirred to-night; @3My@1 sovereign claim annul -- disown! I will repay him groan for groan, Or -- stab him at the altar-stone! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 10 by EZRA POUND TOMORROW by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD EVANGELINE; A TALE OF ACADIE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW JOURNEY by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY MUSIC OF NATURE by E. JUSTINE BAYARD |