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He gave to her, yet tenfold claim`d in return -

She hath no life but the one he for her wrought;

Proffer`d to her his wauking heart - she turn`d it down,

Riposted with a tell-tale lore of lies and scorn.



Prophetess or fond?,

Tho` her parle of truth:

"I ken to-morrow - refell me if ye can!",

Yet the kiss and breath - Apollo`s bane -

Sлer of the future, not of twain,

"Sicker!", quoth Cassandra.



Still, is she lief and quaint in his eyne, a sight divine? -

A mistress fuell`d by his prest haughtiness -

If he did grant, wherefore then did he not foresee,

Belike egal as it to him might be?!



Prophetess or fond?,

Tho` her parle of truth:

"I ken to-morrow - refell me if ye can!",

Yet the kiss and breath - Apollo`s bane -

Sлer of the future, not of twain,

"Sicker!", quoth Cassandra.



`Or was he an eried being,

`Or was he weening - alack nay mo;

Her naysay` raught his heart,

Her daffing was the grave of all hope -

She belied her own words,

He thought her life, save moreo`er scourge,

She held him august, yet wee;

He left her ne`er without his heart.

He gave to her, yet tenfold claim`d in return -

She hath no life but the one he for her wrought;

Proffer`d to her his wauking heart - she turn`d it down,

Riposted with a tell-tale lore of lies and scorn.



Prophetess or fond?,

Tho` her parle of truth:

"I ken to-morrow - refell me if ye can!",

Yet the kiss and breath - Apollo`s bane -

Sлer of the future, not of twain,

"Sicker!", quoth Cassandra.



Still, is she lief and quaint in his eyne, a sight divine? -

A mistress fuell`d by his prest haughtiness -

If he did grant, wherefore then did he not foresee,

Belike egal as it to him might be?!



Prophetess or fond?,

Tho` her parle of truth:

"I ken to-morrow - refell me if ye can!",

Yet the kiss and breath - Apollo`s bane -

Sлer of the future, not of twain,

"Sicker!", quoth Cassandra.



`Or was he an eried being,

`Or was he weening - alack nay mo;

Her naysay` raught his heart,

Her daffing was the grave of all hope -

She belied her own words,

He thought her life, save moreo`er scourge,

She held him august, yet wee;

He left her ne`er without his heart.

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