Love Letters of a Violinist, and Other Poems

by Eric Mackay

He will be taught how dark and drear

Is barter'd love,—how sad to sight

A perjured face! He will be driven

To compass Hell,—and dream of Heaven.

VII.

But stand at God's high altar there,

With saints around thee tall and sweet,

I'll match thy pride with my despair,

And drag thee down from glory's seat.

Yea, thou shalt kneel! Thy head shall bow