Page:Poems of Emma Lazarus vol 1.djvu/348

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THE SPAGNOLETTO.
331


BIBEBA.

Away ! I know thee. Thou art one With her who doped me with like words last night. Then I believed ; but now my sense is closed, My heart is dead as stone. I cast thee forth. By heaven, I own thee not ! Thou dost forget I am the Spagnoletto. Away, I say, Or ere I strike thee. [He threatens her,

ANNICGA.

Woe is me ! Help, help ! [Exit.

BIBERA..

So, the last link is snapt Had I not steeled My heart, I fain had kissed her in farewell. 'T is better so. I leave my work unfinished. Could I arise each day to face this spectre. Or sleep with it at night ? — to yearn for her Even while I curse her? No! The dead remain Sacred and sweet in our remembrance still ; They seem not to have left us ; they abide And linger nigh us in the viewless air. The fallen, the guilty, must be rooted out From heart and thought and memory. With them No hope of blest reunion ; they must be As though they had not been ; their spoken name