Page:Oriental Sketches Dramatic Sketches and Tales.pdf/155

Rh

Is not this horror written on my front In hideous characters? The gaping world Will crowd to gaze upon the branded wretch Who bears his guilt imprinted on his brow, And less detested criminals will bruit Geraldi's crimes to wondering multitudes.

Give me my murdered friend, wash from my hands These crimson spots—Oh why, why dost thou look So like an angel, and yet bear within The seeds of mischief? Beloved Geraldi, Look not upon me with that cold, stern glance; I have no welcome tidings to impart, Nothing to soothe thee save my faithful love, The strong affection which 'mid bliss or woe Still clings in mournful tenderness, still twines Like the fond ivy round the blasted tree That boasts no other verdure.