The Rival

I DETERMINED to find out whose it was— The portrait he looked at so, and sighed; Bitterly have I rued my meanness And wept for it since he died!

I searched his desk when he was away, And there was the likeness—yes, my own! Taken when I was the season’s fairest, And time-lines all unknown.

I smiled at my image, and put it back, And he went on cherishing it, until I was chafed that he loved not the me then living, But that past woman still.

Well, such was my jealousy at last, I destroyed that face of the former me; Could you ever have dreamed the heart of woman Would work so foolishly!