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Madison Julius Cawein (Мэдисон Джулиус Кавейн)


The Woman


With her fair face she made my heaven,
Beneath whose stars and moon and sun
I worshiped, praying, having striven,
For wealth through which she might be won.
And yet she had no soul: A woman
As fair and cruel as a god;
Who played with hearts as nothing human,
And tossed them by and on them trod.
She killed a soul; she did it nightly;
Luring it forth from peace and prayer,
To strangle it, and laughing lightly,
Cast it into the gutter there.
And yet, not for a purer vision
Would I exchange; or Paradise
Possess instead of Hell, my prison,
Where burns the passion of her eyes.



Madison Julius Cawein's other poems:
  1. In the Mountains
  2. The Iron Cross
  3. Above the Vales
  4. Communicants
  5. Riders in the Night


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