Who am I? The unhoused, the fugitive, The aimless, restless reprobate, Plunging like some wild waterfall from cliff to cliff 3350 Down to the abyss, in greedy furious spate! And as I passed—she, childlike, innocent, A hut, a meadow on the mountain-slope, A home like that, such sweet content, Her little world, her little scope! And I, whom God had cursed, Rocks could not satisfy My rage to rive and burst And wreck as I rushed by! I had to ruin her, to undermine 3360 Her peace; she was our victim, hell’s and mine! Help me, you devil, to cut short this waiting, This fear! Let it
...more
