Hate

IF hate be unforgivable.Then must I unforgiven be.For I shall hate one woman, Lord,For all eternity.

Forgiven or not, I hate her soThat did she, burnt with fever, lie,I'd spill the ice-cup that she cravedAnd laugh to see her die.

Yea, Lord, yea, Lord—I hate her soThat, were she sent to deepest hell,I'd pray the awful fires might doTheir part slow—slow—and well.