 | Laurella and other poems |  |
195
A SONG OF REMORSE.
I had a friend of my own,
The truest that e'er was known;
But the spiders of secrecy
With jealousy wove the sky,
And poisoned the wings of trust
With a bloodless thrust.
The truest that e'er was known;
But the spiders of secrecy
With jealousy wove the sky,
And poisoned the wings of trust
With a bloodless thrust.
The freezing of love untold
Made love in our bosoms cold,
And the cuckoo-wings of pride
Pushed its bashful brood aside.
Made love in our bosoms cold,
And the cuckoo-wings of pride
Pushed its bashful brood aside.
The angels of pain and care
Made in his heart their lair,
And the demon of despair
Was my comrade everywhere.
Made in his heart their lair,
And the demon of despair
Was my comrade everywhere.
Now the angels of remorse
Whip me away from his corse,
And one kiss I dare not crave
From the jealous grave.
Whip me away from his corse,
And one kiss I dare not crave
From the jealous grave.
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