I brought her here and wrought her shame: She came with me all trustingly. Lovely and innocent her face: And in her perfect form, the grace Of purity and modesty.
I think I loved her then: 'would dote
On her ambrosial breast and throat, Young as a blossom's tenderness: Her eyes, that were both glad and sad: Her cheeks and chin, that dimples had: Her mouth, red-ripe to kiss and kiss.
Three months passed by; three moons of fire;
When in me sickened all desire: And in its place a devil, - who Filled all my soul with deep disgust, And on the victim of my lust Turned eyes of loathing, - swiftly grew.
One night, when by my side she slept,
I rose: and leaning, while I kept The dagger hid, I kissed her hair And throat: and, when she smiled asleep, Into her heart I drove it deep: And left her dead, still smiling there.