Page:Poems Storrie.djvu/227

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An Empty Glass.
209
The trebled heartbeats. And for me, for me
No child—no husband, just the unquiet ghost
Of an evaporated passion. Now
I know that I shall do it. Yes! yes! yes!
I know that I am mad. So let me be.
Here is the drug. Now let it do its work,
I can endure no more, the time has come.

[Walks towards bed, with bottle in hand, but avoids
looking at Max.]

The time? to slay my love? Oh Max! dear heart,
I meant to kill you! God be merciful
To me a sinner. Is it really true?
I would have harmed him, cut the slender thread
That links him to the living? Heavens above!
I meant to kill him. Can it then be true?
What am I? and what stayed me? Sure there is
An unseen arm cloth hedge defenceless heads.
Some spirit stirred, and roused me from my dream,
My wicked dream of vengeance. I'm awake,
Thank God, and I am sane. Hortense once more,
A woman, not a fiend. And he shall live,
And I shall like a noxious vapour fade
And leave his life untrammelled. He shall be