"Oh! I could curse thee in my grief!
Thou murderer of my peace and joy;
But I will not—'twere small relief,
Tho' justice should thy life destroy.
"'Twould not recall to life again
The man I loved in early youth:
Ah me! ah me! now all in vain
His kindness, my confiding truth.
"In thy dark cell alone to pine
From every consolation free;