Theatre Of Tragedy

He gave to her, yet tenfold claim'd in return -
She hath no life but the one he for her wrought;
Proffer'd to her his wauking heart - she turn'd it down,
Riposted with a tell-tale lore of lies and scorn.
Prophetess or fond?,
Tho' her parle of truth;
I ken to-morrow - refell me if ye can!,
Yet the kiss and breath - Apollo's bane -
Seer of the future, not of twain,
Sicker!, quoth Cassandra.
Still, is she lief and quaint in his eyne, a sight divine? -
A mistress fuell'd by his prest haughtiness -
If he did grant, whrefore then did he not foresee,
Belike egal as it to him might be?!
Prophetess or fond?,