479

She dealt her pretty words like Blades-
How glittering they shone-
And every One unbared a Nerve
Or wantoned with a Bone-

She never deemed-she hurt-
That-is not Steel's Affair-
A vulgar grimace in the Flesh-
How ill the Creatures bear-

To Ache is human-not polite-
The Film upon the eye
Mortality's old Custom-
Just locking up-to Die.