7
'But lips, which till then never said
A word to cause any one pain,
Inform'd me, when reason had fled,
Of a conflict it could not sustain.
A word to cause any one pain,
Inform'd me, when reason had fled,
Of a conflict it could not sustain.
'And he, who had wish'd to conceal
That the woman he lov'd had been poor,
Began all his folly to feel,
When the victim could hearken no more.
That the woman he lov'd had been poor,
Began all his folly to feel,
When the victim could hearken no more.
'Yet still for himself did he mourn,
And, indignant, I fled from the view:
For my wrongs were not easily borne,
And my anger was hard to subdue.
And, indignant, I fled from the view:
For my wrongs were not easily borne,
And my anger was hard to subdue.
'One prop, one sole comfort, remain'd,
Who saw me o'erladen with grief,
Who saw (though I never complain'd)
My heart was too sick for relief.
Who saw me o'erladen with grief,
Who saw (though I never complain'd)
My heart was too sick for relief.
