A Confession

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These are the facts:--I was to blame:
  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.

© Madison Julius Cawein