Two Ways of Love.
53
The poor defenceless dead her requiescat.
'Tis strange, unnatural. Yes, but not
Till death has claimed his own from me shall I
Forget that she, my Mother, saw in all
That awful trouble nothing but my guilt,
The one thing tangible. That she, whose heart
Should have become my haven, she of all
Who should have sheltered and have shielded me,
Was first to pass death sentence and condemn
As only your good women can condemn
"A fallen sister." I, her only child,
And fatherless, a girl as foully wronged
As ever, in this woman-wronging world,
Uplifted eyes of murdered innocence.
And I, her child, found only cruel scorn
And ready censure and an outraged pride
In place of mother-love. And then she stood
And coldly told me that my life was wrecked,
My future blasted, and my very self
A shuddering horror to her. Yet, she said,
One thing remained to me—to save her name
From public scandal—that at her behest
You, Tom, you, poor brave knight of courtesy,
Constrained by deep compassion and the call
'Tis strange, unnatural. Yes, but not
Till death has claimed his own from me shall I
Forget that she, my Mother, saw in all
That awful trouble nothing but my guilt,
The one thing tangible. That she, whose heart
Should have become my haven, she of all
Who should have sheltered and have shielded me,
Was first to pass death sentence and condemn
As only your good women can condemn
"A fallen sister." I, her only child,
And fatherless, a girl as foully wronged
As ever, in this woman-wronging world,
Uplifted eyes of murdered innocence.
And I, her child, found only cruel scorn
And ready censure and an outraged pride
In place of mother-love. And then she stood
And coldly told me that my life was wrecked,
My future blasted, and my very self
A shuddering horror to her. Yet, she said,
One thing remained to me—to save her name
From public scandal—that at her behest
You, Tom, you, poor brave knight of courtesy,
Constrained by deep compassion and the call
