XV.

Oh, forgive my lying baseness,
Husband, ever good and kind!

For the lies of life had made me,
When I wronged thee, moral blind.

Would to God that I could love thee With a love as true as thine! Would that I could freely give thee Half the love that once was mine!

Would to God that I could love thee,
And could all the past forget!
But my heart is dead for ever,
And 'tis useless to regret.

Would, then, I could frankly tell thee That my life is but a lie;

Would, that I could frankly tell thee

And could lay me down and die!

For, in part, I then might free thee
From the sorrow of my crime;
And thy life would not be darkened
By the shadow over mine.

But, though oft the silent reaper
Finds us 'midst the sunlit flowers,
Oft he lingers, though we seek him,
When the tempest darkly lours;

And thy love would then but bind thee, Burning like a fiery chain;

And I long might see thee suffer,

Ere he made thee free again.

I will keep my guilty secret,

Since to tell, thy life would mar;

I will bravely bear my burden,
Though the goal of life be far;

Though it steep my life in falseness, Though it plunge my soul in hell, Though my heart be torn with torments, I will not my secret tell.

Would to God thou didst not love me,

Seeking for a sweet return ;

For thy fondness seems to choke me, And thy kisses seem to burn.

Oft I feel that I must flee thee,
Ere the soul of truth expire;
For I daily plunge but deeper
In a lake of endless fire.

Willingly, like guilty Judas,

Would I cast the treasure down; All the price for which I sold me, Though it were an empire's crown.

I would cast, with gladness, from me All the treasures earth could give, If again, in sweet contentment,

I could freely love and live.

Nay! I'd give, and give them freely; Cast them down without a sigh;

Could I feel that sweet contentment, Though I felt it but to die.

I could bear, alone, to suffer,

Drifting on life's restless tide; Seeking, 'midst the nameless millions, But my broken heart to hide :

But I could not bear to grieve thee,
And to load thy heart with care,
Making all the life before thee
But an anguish of despair.

Oh, I could not bear to leave thee
Tortured with a life-long doubt!
Hopeless! and yet ever hoping!
Till the sands of life ran out:

For I know that thou wouldst seek me,
Anguished with a restless grief,

Till the gloomy lord of shadows
Gave thy weary heart relief.

Oh I could not, could not leave thee To a fearful fate like this!

Yet I dare not linger longer,

Trembling o'er the dread abyss.

Best, then, I should keep my secret;
Bear it to an early grave;

Best to end a life of falseness
By a death ignobly brave;

Best that I should end my sorrow;
That my life should reach its goal;
Best that I should boldly free thee
At the peril of my soul.

Hark! I hear a distant footfall!
It approaches! It is he!

It is well his sudden coming
Breaks upon my reverie.

XVI.

It is well that thou hast left me!

For a fate, beyond control,

Leaves the moments thou art with me

Traced in stains upon my soul.