 | Graffiti d'Italia |  |
332
THE SHADY LANE.
I waited for him in the shady lane,
For I knew he would pass there late at night;
And that leaf-strewn wood I swore to stain
With his blood or mine, for I hated his sight.
There I waited and listened alone,
With a tumult of rage in my heart and brain;
And I swore to myself the deed should be done
To-night, as he passed the lane.
For I knew he would pass there late at night;
And that leaf-strewn wood I swore to stain
With his blood or mine, for I hated his sight.
There I waited and listened alone,
With a tumult of rage in my heart and brain;
And I swore to myself the deed should be done
To-night, as he passed the lane.
Was I not right? He had stolen her heart—
My heart, that more than my life was dear;
Had poisoned her mind with his treacherous art,
And his vile love breathed in her ear.
He, the contemptible trivial fool,
With never a scruple or doubt or fear
Of his exquisite self—to make her the tool
Of his flatteries insincere!
My heart, that more than my life was dear;
Had poisoned her mind with his treacherous art,
And his vile love breathed in her ear.
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With never a scruple or doubt or fear
Of his exquisite self—to make her the tool
Of his flatteries insincere!
Why did she blush as she heard him speak,
Flushing all over as red as a rose
When he touched her hand? and tremble, as weak
As a reed when a light wind blows.
What was there, I say, in that empty face,
In that empty head, and emptier heart,
That gave him the power her name to disgrace,
And my darling from me to part?
Flushing all over as red as a rose
When he touched her hand? and tremble, as weak
As a reed when a light wind blows.
What was there, I say, in that empty face,
In that empty head, and emptier heart,
That gave him the power her name to disgrace,
And my darling from me to part?
I knew his step, as gaily he came,
Swinging his stick as he strode along—
Hate lightened along my nerves like flame,
I was mad to hear him singing that song.
Before him I leaped with a single bound,
Face to face in the pale moonlight—
“No words,” I cried; “blows, blows, you hound;
One of us two must die to-night.”
Swinging his stick as he strode along—
Hate lightened along my nerves like flame,
I was mad to hear him singing that song.
Before him I leaped with a single bound,
Face to face in the pale moonlight—
“No words,” I cried; “blows, blows, you hound;
One of us two must die to-night.”
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Aghast he stood, but not with fear,
Most with the suddenness of the thing—
As one when the sky is bright and clear
Starts at the lightning's sudden sting.
“You!” he cried. “Back; let me pass!
Back, I say; are you drunk or mad?”
“Both,” I cried. “You have ruined the lass;
And your blood shall answer, my lad.”
Most with the suddenness of the thing—
As one when the sky is bright and clear
Starts at the lightning's sudden sting.
“You!” he cried. “Back; let me pass!
Back, I say; are you drunk or mad?”
“Both,” I cried. “You have ruined the lass;
And your blood shall answer, my lad.”
We fought together there in the shade,
As a madman and his keeper fight;
He for his life, that love had made
So sweet, and I for his death, that night.
That love!—a fire was in my brain,
The strength of a fiend was in my hand,
And at last he dropped in the shady lane,
And his blood oozed out on the sand.
As a madman and his keeper fight;
He for his life, that love had made
So sweet, and I for his death, that night.
That love!—a fire was in my brain,
The strength of a fiend was in my hand,
And at last he dropped in the shady lane,
And his blood oozed out on the sand.
“My life! don't murder me,” he said,
As I clenched him there—when suddenly
The struggling body lay heavy and dead,
And I felt above me the moon's great eye.
There, alone, where a moment before
Two were struggling, was only one!
“Thank God!” I cried, “he will love no more,
And deceive no more—'tis done!”
As I clenched him there—when suddenly
The struggling body lay heavy and dead,
And I felt above me the moon's great eye.
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Two were struggling, was only one!
“Thank God!” I cried, “he will love no more,
And deceive no more—'tis done!”
The hate that had blazed so fierce calmed down
Slowly, until of its raging glow
Only the ashes were left. The frown
Cleared away from my knotted brow.
In the trough of my passion's swell I lay,
And a sickening calm across me crept,
As the satiate passions slank away
Drunk with revenge, and slept.
Slowly, until of its raging glow
Only the ashes were left. The frown
Cleared away from my knotted brow.
In the trough of my passion's swell I lay,
And a sickening calm across me crept,
As the satiate passions slank away
Drunk with revenge, and slept.
The deed was done! but an ugly fear
Came over me now to touch this thing.
There was nothing to struggle against me here
In this lifeless heap; I wished it would spring
And grasp me, and strike at me as it did
Only a moment or two before.
I lifted the head, but it dropped and slid
From my grasp to its bed of gore.
Came over me now to touch this thing.
There was nothing to struggle against me here
In this lifeless heap; I wished it would spring
And grasp me, and strike at me as it did
Only a moment or two before.
I lifted the head, but it dropped and slid
From my grasp to its bed of gore.
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Coward! 'tis but a carcass that's dead!
Lift it; drag it along the wood!
No one is looking—carefully spread
Dry leaves over the stains of blood!
Hark!—ah! 'tis but the rustling leaves,
As the freshening night-wind lifts and dies;
'Tis but the wind that sighs and grieves—
No eye sees but the starry eyes!
Lift it; drag it along the wood!
No one is looking—carefully spread
Dry leaves over the stains of blood!
Hark!—ah! 'tis but the rustling leaves,
As the freshening night-wind lifts and dies;
'Tis but the wind that sighs and grieves—
No eye sees but the starry eyes!
What will you do with this horrible thing?
Down! and grub a grave in the ground!
Grub with your nails! If you choose, you may sing
That song of his. Don't start and look round!
'Tis but a corpse you are burying now—
Surely that is a Christian deed—
How she would thank you!—clear your brow—
What else do you ask or need?
Down! and grub a grave in the ground!
Grub with your nails! If you choose, you may sing
That song of his. Don't start and look round!
'Tis but a corpse you are burying now—
Surely that is a Christian deed—
How she would thank you!—clear your brow—
What else do you ask or need?
Dig!—how terribly slow you are!
The dawn in the east begins to grow;
The birds are all chirping—bury there
That body at once, and for God's sake go!
The world will be up in less than an hour,
And rattle and ring along the road—
Dig for your life!—ah, well! that's o'er!
And he lies in his last abode.
The dawn in the east begins to grow;
The birds are all chirping—bury there
That body at once, and for God's sake go!
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And rattle and ring along the road—
Dig for your life!—ah, well! that's o'er!
And he lies in his last abode.
Speed o'er the country, slink to your room,
Happy at last that the deed is done!
Why do you look so?—surely the gloom
That clouded so long your life has gone!
Why do you shrink from the open street?
Why should you hide from the gaze of men?
Go! tell her your night's work when you meet,
And surely she'll kiss you and love you then.
Happy at last that the deed is done!
Why do you look so?—surely the gloom
That clouded so long your life has gone!
Why do you shrink from the open street?
Why should you hide from the gaze of men?
Go! tell her your night's work when you meet,
And surely she'll kiss you and love you then.
| Graffiti d'Italia | |