And touch me with the fangs of his dark shame,
And lure me, with his serpent eyes, to sleep?
I know not that I shall forget my kind,
Nor shame the form I owe to human birth;
I know not but the foaming of my mind
May leave a legacy of good to earth;
But I am saddened when I think that all
Of the world’s plaudit flows from my deceit,
And that the eyes that love me would recall
Their pleasant looks, could they but trace my feet!