If she wished not the rash deed's recallment?
"For I"—so I spoke—"am a poet:
Human nature,—behooves that I know it!"
She told me, "Too long had I heard
Of the deed proved alone by the word:
For my love—what De Lorge would not dare!
With my scorn—what De Lorge could compare!
And the endless descriptions of death
He would brave when my lip formed a breath,
I must reckon as braved, or, of course,