False? false to him? Release me--let me go
Before Heaven's judgment-seat to make appeal;
Unfold the records of this life, and show
All that the secret pages can reveal,
That Heaven and Earth the inmost truth may know!

He cannot think it in his heart of hearts;
He cannot wear this falsehood in his soul,
Or deem me perjur'd; no delusive arts
Can make him blot my name from honour's scroll:
The sun will shine forth when the cloud departs.

Patience, my heart! Error is quick, but Truth
Moves slowly, but moves surely up the earth,
Wiping from age the heresies of youth,
And kindling warmth on the once blasted hearth:
Patience, my heart! and rage will turn to ruth.

There is no blush upon my brow, though tears
Are in mine eyes, and sorrow in my heart;
This sobbing breast heaves not with traitor fears:
No sighs for sin are these that sadly start,
And bear their bitter burden to thine ears.

And though my woman's strength bend like a reed
Before the flowing of Affliction's river,
Not, not for shame, nor for one strumpet deed
Doth this weak frame bow down, or faintly quiver,
As I stand forth alone in deadly need.