III

Great God, forfend the tooth

Of deep remorse, and stings

Of joys that I did spurn:

Oh, spare the gnawing ruth

Of memories' torturings,

Yea proudly did I turn

From earth to snatch at wings

To soar and ne'er return

To life's lees.

The Menorah Journal, Volume 1, 1915 · 第 286 / 329 题