I wrote a letter while jealous rage
In my bosom reigned supreme;
The words were fraught with anger,
And a loathsome disesteem.
They fell on the pure white paper
And marred its stainless page,
Yet eased my maddened spirit,
And appeased my senseless rage.
I gloatingly tho't of the dumb despair
That letter would surely give,
To one who had broken her faithful vows
In a way I could never forgive.
I doubted not the perfect truth
Of all I heard them say;
She, like other girls, was false
While her lover was away.
I knew she vowed she would be true
While life itself would last,
Yet thought that she, like others,
Too soon forgot the past.