‘I told my love: O God! even still
I hear the Tempter’s voice,
Which whispered the thought in my mind, to fill
My page of crime with a deed of ill
That made all hell rejoice.
‘I knelt at her feet, and my proud heart burn’d
When she spoke of my brother’s love;
Affection’s warmth to deep hate was turn’d;
His proffered hand in my wrath I spurn’d—
Not all his prayers could move.