To feel the unkind thought—to doubt all truth—
Of woman and of man. Naught’s left me now
But shaken confidence and cheated hopes,
A long and drear account to be repaid
With interest manifold. The restless fire
That has preyed upon my brain, and blasted life—
Destroyed my peace, and made me stern and strong
As the avenging fury, must recoil
Upon the heads of those whose path has been
In triumph o’er my heart.