For I loved her, and our offspring too;
Poor darling orphans, let none upbraid them,
When my soul is gone, I know not where,
That God above from harm may save them.
Shall be my last, my earnest prayer.
When at the station on her did gaze there,
In company with that treacherous man,
One kindly word from her would saved her
And stay’d alas my murderous hand;
But she braved my anger, and in madness,