Classic Poem

I'm black and blue from their worrying,
They've tortured me early and late,
Some with their love — God help me!
The others with their hate.

They've poisoned the wine on my table,
They've poisoned the bread on my plate,
Some with their love — God help me!
The others with their hate.

But she who most has worried,
And tortured and troubled — she
Has never either loved me,
Or even hated me.