V

You were a maiden like a dream Who led me where volcanic dust Rained in a scoriac mountain stream, Where, from Andean snows, was thrust One crater belching stones and steam.

You were an Inca princess when I was a cavalier of Spain, Who frowned among Pizarro's men, And saw the New World rent with pain.-- No grace of God could save me then.

And it was you who led me far To gaze on caves of Inca gold: But when we came, lo! warrior On warrior, an army rolled Around us panoplied for war.

Fierce faces chiseled out of stone Are not more stern.--Down, underneath, I heard the sullen earthquake groan; Above me, red eruptions seeth. And clenched my teeth and stood alone.

And then you pled and was denied.-- They laid me where the lava crawled, Red-rivered, down the mountain side. I felt the slow, slow hell-heat scald: And as it closed, you leapt and died.