Ruddy o'erspread, he crost the open space,
And stood beside the woman, and whisper'd, "I
For that one crime forgive thee."
She thereat,
With a loud cry and mournful as the wind's
When shatter its long columns thro' the woods
Of ocean pine, fell down and claspt his feet:
"'T is better that I die; living I shall vex
His life who sees me and can never trust me.
In your love's music I shall be the broken
Chord that must jar the rest. No, it is better
To die, and be forgotten, than live unresting
I' the parried motion of his indignation.
For thy forgiveness, blessings; but, beseech you,
Let it extend to granting me my death."
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