Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/351

Rh Rebels against the habit of despair, And, ere I am aware, has wandered back, Among forbidden paths. What prayer, what penance, Will shrive me clean before the sight of Heaven? My hands are black with parricide. Why else Should his dead face arise three nights before me, Bleached, ghastly, dripping as of one that’s drowned, To freeze my heart with horror ? Christ, have mercy! [She covers her face with her hands in an agony of despair.

May peace be in this place!

Welcome, thrice welcome! Bid me not rise, nor bless me with pure hands. Ask not to see my face. Here let me lie, Kissing the dust a cast-away, a trait’ress, A murderess, a parricide!

Accursed With all Hell s curses is the crime thou nam’st!