Sorrow and sin have worked their will <br />For years upon your sovereign face, <br />And yet it keeps a faded trace <br />Of its unequalled beauty still, <br />As ruined sanctuaries hold <br />A crumbled trace of perfect mould <br />In shrines which saints no longer fill. <br /> <br />I knew you in your splendid morn, <br />Oh, how imperiously sweet! <br />I bowed and worshipped at your feet, <br />And you received my love with scorn. <br />Now I scorn you. It is a change, <br />When I consider it, how strange <br />That you, not I, should be forlorn. <br /> <br />Do you suppose I have no pain <br />To see you play this sorry part, <br />With faded face and broken heart, <br />And life lived utterly in vain? <br />Oh would to God that you once more <br />Might scorn me as you did of yore, <br />And I might worship you again!<br /><br />Robert Fuller Murray<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/undesired-revenge/
