large/10730/children_of_the_night_1604_librivox_64kb_mp3/childrenofthenight_49_robinson_64kb_29
large/10730/children_of_the_night_1604_librivox_64kb_mp3/childrenofthenight_49_robinson_64kb
English
10730
But pride is the master of love, and the vision Of those old days grew faint and fainter: The counterfeit wife my mercy sheltered Was nothing now but a woman,    a woman Out of my way and out of my nature. BUT PRIDE IS THE MASTER OF LOVE AND THE VISION OF THOSE OLD DAYS GREW FAINT AND FAINTER THE COUNTERFEIT WIFE MY MERCY SHELTERED WAS NOTHING NOW BUT A WOMAN A WOMAN OUT OF MY WAY AND OUT OF MY NATURE
venly creature That brightened the life I had lost forever. The truth was gone somehow for the moment; The curtain fell for a time; and I fancied We were again like gods together, Loving again with the old glad rapture. But scenes like these, too often repeated, Failed at last, and her guile was wasted. I made an end of her shrewd caresses And told her a few straight words. She took them Full at their worth -- and the farce was over. . . . . . At first my dreams of the past upheld me, But they were a short support: the present Pushed them away, and I fell. The mission Of life (whatever it was) was blasted; My game was lost. And I met the winner Of that foul deal as a sick slave gathers His painful strength at the sight of his master; And when he was past I cursed him, fearful Of that strange chance which makes us mighty Or mean, or both. I cursed him and hated The stones he pressed with his heel; I followed His easy march with a backward envy, And cursed myself for the beast within me. E AND BURNED MY BRAIN TO PITY THE MORE SHE GREW TO THE HEAVENLY CREATURE THAT BRIGHTENED MY LIFE I HAD LOST FOREVER THE TRUTH WAS GONE SOMEHOW FOR THE MOMENT THE CURTAIN FELL FOR A TIME AND I FANCIED WE WERE AGAIN LIKE GODS TOGETHER LOVING AGAIN THE OLD GLAD RAPTURE BUT SCENES LIKE THESE TOO OFTEN REPEATED FAILED AT LAST AND HER GUILE WAS WASTED I MADE AN END OF HER SHREWD CARESSES AND TOLD HER A FEW STRAIGHT WORDS SHE TOOK THEM FULL AT THEIR WORTH AND THE FARCE WAS OVER AT FIRST MY DREAMS OF PAST UPHELD ME THEY WERE SHORT SUPPORT THE PRESENT PUSHED THEM AWAY AND I FELL THE MISSION OF LIFE WHATEVER WAS WAS BLASTED MY GAME WAS LOST AND I MET THE WINNER OF THAT FOUL DEAL AS A SICK SLAVE GATHERS HIS PAINFUL STRENGTH AT THE SIGHT OF HIS MASTER AND WHEN HE WAS PAST I CURSED HIM FEARFUL OF THAT STRANGE CHANCE WHICH MAKES US MIGHTY OR MEAN OR BOTH I CURSED HIM AND HATED THE STONES HE PRESSED WITH HIS HEEL I FOLLOWED HIS EASY MARCH WITH A BACKWARD ENVY AND CURSED MYSELF FOR THE BEAST WITHIN ME
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