  Did I allure you?—I only meant to love you, I only meant to be so dear you could not let me go. I held you close against my heart, bending down above you, As mothers brood above their babes, I loved you, loved you so. 'T was passion that moved you, called to you and caught you; You never felt my tenderness full launched on your desire. You never knew the friendship and sympathy I brought you. Ah, Mary pity women when their veins are filled with fire. And so I have lost you, I who never won you; You thought me but a siren by your crafty arts beguiled. I hate myself and scorn you for the honor I have done you. I leave you, bitter woman, and I came to you a child. |
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