Revenge

by Letitia Elizabeth Landon

Ay, gaze upon her rose-wreathed hair, 
  And gaze upon her smile; 
Seem as you drank the very air 
  Her breath perfumed the while: 

And wake for her the gifted line, 

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  That wild and witching lay, 
And swear your heart is as a shrine, 
  That only owns her sway. 

'Tis well: I am revenged at last, -- 
  Mark you that scornful cheek, -- 

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The eye averted as you pass'd, 
  Spoke more than works could speak. 

Ay, now by all the bitter tears 
  That I have shed for thee, -- 
The racking doubts, the burning fears, -- 

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  Avenged they well may be -- 

By the nights pass'd in sleepless care, 
  The days of endless woe; 
All that you taught my heart to bear, 
  All that yourself will know. 

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I would not wish to see you laid 
  Within an early tomb; 
I should forget how you betray'd, 
  And only weep your doom: 

But this is fitting punishment, 

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  To live and love in vain, -- 
Oh my wrung heart, be thou content, 
  And feed upon his pain. 

Go thou and watch her lightest sigh, -- 
  Thine own it will not be; 

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And bask beneath her sunny eye, -- 
  It will not turn on thee. 

'Tis well: the rack, the chain, the wheel, 
  Far better had'st thou proved; 
Ev'n I could almost pity feel, 

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  For thou art not beloved.