Inclosed within, a letter false and forged,
Signed with my name--such perfect counterfeit,
At sight I would have sworn it was my own.
And thus her letter ran:
"'Beloved Paul,
May God forgive you as my heart forgives.
Even as a vine that winds about an oak,
Rot-struck and hollow-hearted, for support,
Clasping the sapless branches as it climbs
With tender tendrils and undoubting faith,
I leaned upon your troth; nay, all my hopes--
My love, my life, my very hope of heaven--
I staked upon your solemn promises.
I learned to love you better than my God;
My God hath sent me bitter punishment.
O broken pledges! what have I to live
And suffer for? Half mad in my distress,
Yielding at last to father's oft request,
I pledged my hand to one whose very love
Would be a curse upon me all my days.
To-morrow is the promised wedding day;
To morrow!--but to-morrow shall not come!
Come gladlier, death, and make an end of all!
How many weary days and patiently
I waited for a letter, and at last
It came--a message crueler than death.
O take it back!--and if you have a heart
Yet warm to pity her you swore to love,
Read it--and think of those dear promises--
O sacred as the Savior's promises--
You whispered in my ear that solemn night
Beneath the pines, and kissed away my tears.
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