A Confession

These are the facts:--I was to blame. I brought her here and wrought her shame. She came with me all trustingly. Lovely and innocent her face: And in her perfect form, the grace Of purity and modesty.

I think I loved her then: would dote On her ambrosial breast and throat, Young as a wildflower’s tenderness: Her eyes, that were both glad and sad: Her cheeks and chin, that dimples had: Her mouth, red-ripe to kiss and kiss.

Three months passed by; three moons of fire; When in me sickened all desire: And in its place a devil,--who Filled all my soul with deep disgust, And on the victim of my lust Turned eyes of loathing,--swiftly grew.

One night, when by my side she slept, I rose: and leaning, while I kept The dagger hid, I kissed her hair And mouth: and, when she smiled asleep, Into her heart I drove it deep-- And left her dead, still smiling there.