Page:Demeter and other poems (IA demeterotherpoem00tennrich).pdf/158

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
144
ROMNEY'S REMORSE
O yes! I hired you for a season thereAnd then we parted; but you look so kindThat you will not deny my sultry throatOne draught of icy water. There—you spillThe drops upon my forehead. Your hand shakes.I am ashamed. I am a trouble to you,Could kneel for your forgiveness. Are they tears?For me—they do me too much grace—for me?O Mary, Mary!Vexing you with words!Words only, born of fever, or the fumesOf that dark opiate dose you gave me,—words,Wild babble. I have stumbled back againInto the common day, the sounder self.God stay me there, if only for your sake,The truest, kindliest, noblest-hearted wifeThat ever wore a Christian marriage-ring.
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.