If I Could I Would

He’s More Myself Than I Am

I Despise Him For Himself, And Hate Him For The Memories He Revives!

He Had The Hypocrisy To Represent A Mourner: And Previous To Following With Hareton, He Lifted The Unfortunate Child On To The Table And Muttered, With Peculiar Gusto, 'now, My Bonny Lad, You Are Mine! And We'll See If One Tree Won't Grow As Crooked As Another, With The Same Wind To Twist It!

You Have Left Me So Long To Struggle Against Death, Alone, That I Feel And See Only Death! I Feel Like Death!

Sweet Love Of Youth, Forgive, If I Forget Thee, While The World's Tide Is Bearing Me Along; Sterner Desires And Darker Hopes Beset Me, Hopes Which Obscure, But Cannot Do Thee Wrong.