Under the muffle of affected scorn.
You know how I repell’d your brother’s suit:
How ever when he wrote to me I tore
His letters—would not listen when he spoke—
And when, relying on my love for you,
Through you he tried to whisper his for me,
I quarrell’d with yourself—quarrell’d the more
The more you spoke for him. He wept—I laugh’d;
Knelt in my path—I turn’d another way;
Though who had seen deep down into my heart,