VII

But helpless there I lay, no weapon near,

Only the useless sword I could not reach

His traitor's heart with, while I chafed to hear

The laugh, the insult and the villain speech

Of him to her.--Oh, God! could I but clear

The height between and, hanging like a leech,

My fingers at his throat, tear out his base

Vile tongue! yea, tear, and lash it in his face!

The Poems of Madison Cawein, Volume 1 (of 5) Lyrics and old world idylls · 第 231 / 286 题