'Month after month,' he cried, 'to bear this load _300 And as a jade urged by the whip and goad To drag life on, which like a heavy chain Lengthens behind with many a link of pain!-- And not to speak my grief--O, not to dare To give a human voice to my despair, _305 But live, and move, and, wretched thing! smile on As if I never went aside to groan, And wear this mask of falsehood even to those Who are most dear--not for my own repose-- Alas! no scorn or pain or hate could be _310 So heavy as that falsehood is to me-- But that I cannot bear more altered faces Than needs must be, more changed and cold embraces, More misery, disappointment, and mistrust To own me for their father...Would the dust _315 Were covered in upon my body now! That the life ceased to toil within my brow! And then these thoughts would at the least be fled; Let us not fear such pain can vex the dead. 'What Power delights to torture us? I know _320 That to myself I do not wholly owe What now I suffer, though in part I may. Alas! none strewed sweet flowers upon the way Where wandering heedlessly, I met pale Pain My shadow, which will leave me not again-- _325 If I have erred, there was no joy in error, But pain and insult and unrest and terror; I have not as some do, bought penitence With pleasure, and a dark yet sweet offence, For then,--if love and tenderness and truth _330 Had overlived hope's momentary youth, My creed should have redeemed me from repenting; But loathed scorn and outrage unrelenting Met love excited by far other seeming Until the end was gained...as one from dreaming _335 Of sweetest peace, I woke, and found my state Such as it is.-- 'O Thou, my spirit's mate Who, for thou art compassionate and wise, Wouldst pity me from thy most gentle eyes If this sad writing thou shouldst ever see-- _340 My secret groans must be unheard by thee, Thou wouldst weep tears bitter as blood to know Thy lost friend's incommunicable woe.