Thoughts turn'd astray by grief's terrible force;
Not even by love is murder excus'd;
She cannot believe that he did it, of course.
She thinks him a hero, and so loves on;
Reason enthron'd would annihilate this;
Love would have nothing to nestle upon,
Did she perceive him the sinner he is.'
Words striking my brain like sunshine on ice,
Bursting the bulwarks that kept the flood in;