XIII

She suffered for me:—women, you’ll observe,

Don’t suffer for a Cause, but for a man.

When I was in the dock she show’d her nerve:

I saw beneath her shawl my old tea-can

Trembling . . . she brought it

To screw me for my work: she loath’d my plan,

And therefore doubly kind I thought it.

Poems — Volume 1 · 第 141 / 271 题