Thy wife is destined to deceive thee!
She'll seek another's arms and leave thee,
And horns upon thy head will shortly sprout!
How dreadful that when bathing thou shouldst see me
(No ether-bath can wash the stigma out),
And then, in perfect innocence, shouldst flee me!
Actaeon
Friedrich Schiller
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Poem topics: innocence, perfect, wife, head, wash, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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