Still more my mind to its foundation shook. 790
At last he spoke:—‘Long since I would have died, }
But could not leave her, though for death I sigh’d, }
And tried the poison’d cup, and dropt it as I tried. }
“‘She is a woman, and that famish’d thing
Makes her to life, with all its evils, cling;
Feed her, and let her breathe her last in peace,
And all my sufferings with your promise cease!’
“Ghastly he smiled;—I knew not what I felt,
But my heart melted—hearts of flint would melt,