your sorrow, Louise, and hatred of me
from your delusion that it was wantonness
spirit and contempt of your soul's rights
made me turn to Annabelle and forsake you.
really grew to hate me for love of me,
I was your soul's happiness,
solve your life for you, and would not.
you were my misery. If you had been
happiness would I not have clung to you?
is life's sorrow:
one can be happy only where two are;
that our hearts are drawn to stars
want us not.