Rage ran in Jimmy as he tramped the night; Rage, strongly mingled with a youth’s disgust At finding a beloved woman light, And all her precious beauty dirty dust; A tinsel-varnish gilded over lust. Nothing but that. He sat him down to rage, Beside the stream whose waters never age. Plashing, it slithered down the tiny fall To eddy wrinkles in the trembling pool With that light voice whose music cannot pall, Always the note of solace, flute-like, cool. And when hot-headed man has been a fool, He could not do a wiser thing than go To that dim pool where purple teazles grow. He glowered there until suspicion came, Suspicion, anger’s bastard, with mean tongue, To mutter to him till his heart was flame, And every fibre of his soul was wrung, That even then Ern and his Anna clung Mouth against mouth in passionate embrace. There was no peace for Jimmy in the place. Raging he hurried back to learn the truth. The little swinging wicket glimmered white, The chimney jagged the skyline like a tooth, Bells came in swoons for it was Sunday night. The garden was all dark, but there was light Up in the little room where Anna slept: The hot blood beat his brain; he crept, he crept. Clutching himself to hear, clutching to know, Along the path, rustling with withered leaves, Up to the apple, too decayed to blow, Which crooked a palsied finger at the eaves. And up the lichened trunk his body heaves. Dust blinded him, twigs snapped, the branches shook, He leaned along a mossy bough to look. Nothing at first, except a guttering candle Shaking amazing shadows on the ceiling, Then Anna’s voice upon a bar of ’Randal, Where have you been:’ and voice and music reeling, Trembling, as though she sang with flooding feeling. The singing stopped midway upon the stair, Then Anna showed in white with loosened hair. Her back was towards him, and she stood awhile, Like a wild creature tossing back her mane, And then her head went back, he saw a smile On the half face half turned towards the pane; Her eyes closed, and her arms went out again. Jim gritted teeth, and called upon his Maker, She drooped into a man’s arms there to take her. Agony first, sharp, sudden, like a knife, Then down the tree to batter at the door; ’Open there. Let me in. I’ll have your life. You Jezebel of hell, you painted whore, Talk about faith, I’ll give you faith galore.’ The window creaked, a jug of water came Over his head and neck with certain aim. ’Clear out,’ said Ern; ’I’m here, not you, to-night, Clear out. We whip young puppies when they yap.’ ’If you’re a man,’ said Jim, ’Come down and fight, I’ll put a stopper on your ugly chap.’ ’Go home,’ said Ern; ’Go home and get your pap. To kennel, pup, and bid your mother bake Some soothing syrup in your puppy cake.’