When the Birds Go North Again/Hate

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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.