“I love another, I have cheated thee.”
At first it can not be, it is a dream;
And when by slow procession, step by step,
He sees in it the waking from a dream,
His heavy heart stands still—he dies a death,
A momentary death—to wake again
Into a furious life of hot revenge;
His hand against all men; his maddened tongue
Calling down curses on his cheated self;
On him who stole her love, on all but her