Or I shall break your head!”
About a mile from that sad home
Our river’s sluggish waters creep;
She sought that bridge where wretches come,
To woo oblivion dark and deep,
Maddened by patient love’s despite,
With haggard cheek with salt tears wet,
She stood upon the parapet,
And glared a last glance on the night.
Once more she said—“My life is dreary,