I ponder it over and o’er.
’Tis months since the craven arm grasped me,
And in bliss did my life glide away;
From opium to “dipping” and thieving,
She artfully led day by day.
One evening, coming home wet and dreary,
With the swag from a jewelry store;
I heard the soft voice of my loved one,
As I gently opened the door.
“If you’ll give me a clue to convict him,”