Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet Iv

But Adrian, who was young and all athirst For human joy, and turbulent and strong, Grew discontent with her despairs and curst, Nor spared he her the jibings of his tongue. He mocked at her vain virtue and the words She used to comfort him when sometimes she With weak heart battling, like a troubled bird's Which sees the nets, would ease his misery With telling her own pain and making show Of her soul's hunger to his hungry soul. It only angered him, this prate of woe, And back he thrust on her her beggar's dole Of idle sighs. And ``If I have not bread, For pity let me be and starve,'' he said.