Lover's Irresolution
My heart is mad:—why not my brain? Oh, witch!
That flaming Hymen now would quench his torch,
Or Hate, betwixt thy fool and thee, would set
Double divorce for ever! Shall I go?
I cannot quit her: but,—like men who mock
The voice of thunder, tarry until—I die!
Shall I not go!—I will not; though the tongues
Of chiding virtue rail me strait to stone.
Here will I stand,—a statue, fixed and firm,
Before the fiery altar of my love,
Both worshipper and martyr.
That flaming Hymen now would quench his torch,
Or Hate, betwixt thy fool and thee, would set
Double divorce for ever! Shall I go?
I cannot quit her: but,—like men who mock
The voice of thunder, tarry until—I die!
Shall I not go!—I will not; though the tongues
Of chiding virtue rail me strait to stone.
Here will I stand,—a statue, fixed and firm,
Before the fiery altar of my love,
Both worshipper and martyr.
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