And in the deadly arrow recognizes
A blood-wet feather—once in her own wing!
In her poem called “The Rival” human nature speaks a direct word, particularly in the contradiction of the last stanza. The lines have the quality of speech rather than of print:
This is the hardest of my fate:
She’s better whom he doth prefer
Than I am that he worshipped late,
As well as so much prettier,
So much more fortunate!
He’ll not repent; oh, you will see,
She’ll never give him cause to grieve!