They hold me under curse and ban,
I "killed this woman as she lay
In my embrace!" This thing they say!
But Germaine, could she speak, would still
Their lisping lies . . . !
"If love can kill"
(Germaine would tell them) "why then he
Killed me, forsooth, with loving me . . ."
I "killed this woman as she lay
In my embrace!" This thing they say!
But Germaine, could she speak, would still
Their lisping lies . . . !
"If love can kill"
(Germaine would tell them) "why then he
Killed me, forsooth, with loving me . . ."
Little it matters! I shall sleep
In sleep like hers; but not so deep,
For love was earth's last gift to her!
The little cotton dress she wore
With ribbons, hangs against the door . . .
In the white villa, . . . still it is! . . .
Only the doves were witnesses.
In sleep like hers; but not so deep,
For love was earth's last gift to her!
The little cotton dress she wore
With ribbons, hangs against the door . . .
In the white villa, . . . still it is! . . .
Only the doves were witnesses.
25
