’Tis written in the Writing how a pair
Of angels dwelt with children of the dust,
And judged between the just and the unjust;
Loyal to God, until a woman, fair
As sun or stars, entangled in her hair
The hearts of those twin angels, and dark lust
Consumed them, till they whispered, ‘Surely must
We temper justice to a thing so rare.’
God punished those false angels, yet if I
Were placed like them upon some judgment-seat
Speaking the law, and you came wandering by,
One smile of yours would fling me at your feet
Crying, ‘Have pity upon me, O most sweet!
Do with me as you will, and let me die.’