Lota - Part II

A poem on Unrequited Love, by Augusta Webster

Page 37

"For I was
A secret. I was hidden like a shame.
Emilio wrote some vague submission, then
Married me. And the old man took it, duped,
That, loved or left, I was to be no wife,
And chuckled at his power.

"'Forgive' he said:
The man who was my husband, paled and shook,
And wept to me 'Forgive.' But do you think
A woman can be patient of such wrongs
And not polluted by them? Should she smile,
Speak softly, play the sympathetic wife,
Pick her steps among the garbage, hand in hand
With a liar and a libertine? Forgive,
From wife to husband, means so much or nought.
Answer me, Gervase, you who can be true
Against yourself or for yourself alike,
Afraid of neither, could I have forgiven?"

"You could not" Gervase answered heavily
Out of his listening.

Lota said "So long
He made a tempest round me that I seemed
Numbed and bewildered by my weariness,
And prayed him for mere mercy to forbear
And let me have the rest of lonely thought.
And then he let me pass. But while I lay
In a half trance of stupor on my bed
I heard him come and shade away the light
Where the sunset broke in on me, and I felt
That he stood watching me some minutes long;
And then he went.

Next ...

Page1     page2    page3     page4     page5    page6     page7     page8     page9    page10   page11   page12   page13   page14   page15   page16   page17   page18   page19   page20   page21   page22   page23   page24   page25   page26   page27   page28   page29   page30   page31   page32   page33   page34   page35   page36   page37   page38   page39   page40   page41   page42   page43   page44   page45   page46   page47   page48   page49   page50   page51   page52   page53   page54   page55   page56   page57   page58   page59  

Find your own true love at the UK "UK Singles Club" dating services
Live in the sun in your own Spain - Spanish property