Full well she knew the hand that dealt her doom

Full well she knew the hand that dealt her doom Lay there outstretched in pleading helplessness; Should she withhold the potion, death would come Outreaching time, dark thoughts; but who could guess If e’er they broke upon her soul’s distress? The night was long, but longer still even then The night that wrapped her life. Deep shades depress Her very thoughts in sighs. Nor tongue, nor pen, Alas! hath Grief to tell that tale of woe again.