But, oh, 'tis long since I have slain a man.
Once, panther-like I played
"With many husbands, and then shed their blood,
But life in this dim place is vastly slow;
I have no men to murder in my mood—
That makes my only woe!
"The men, my lovers, how they bowed their necks
'Neath the neat boots wherewith my feet were shod!
I witched them, and the sturdiest of the sex
Were vassals to my nod.