166 MYSTERIES :
SONNETS.
TO THE AUTHOR OF THE PHRASE: “I AM NOT A
GENTLEMAN AND I HAVE NO FRIENDS.”
I.
ELF-DAMNED, the leprous moisture of thy
veins
Sickens the sunshine, and thine haggard eyes,
Bleared with their own corrupting infamies,
Glare through the charnel-house of earthly pains,
Horrible as already in hell. There reigns
The terror of the knowledge of the lies
That mock thee ; thy death’s double destinies
Clutch at the throat that sobs, and chokes, and strains.
Self-damned on earth, live out thy tortured days,
That men may look upon thy face, and see
How vile a thing of woman born may be.
Then, we are done with thee; go, go thy ways
To other hells, thou damned of God hereafter,
"Mid men’s contempt and hate and pitiless laughter.