|Two Halves (Ollie and Fletcher McGee)
Have you seen walking through the village
A man with downcast eyes and haggard face?
She took my strength by minutes,
She took my life by hours,
She drained me like a fevered moon
That saps the spinning world.
That is my husband who, by secret cruelty
Never to be told, robbed me of my youth and my beauty;
The days went by like shadows,
The minutes wheeled like stars.
She took the pity from my heart,
And made it into smiles.
Robbed me of my youth and my beauty;
Till at last, wrinkled and with yellow teeth,
And with broken pride and shameful humility,
I sank into the grave.
But what think you gnaws at my husband's heart?
She was a hunk of sculptor's clay,
My secret thoughts were fingers:
They flew behind her pensive brow
And lined it deep with pain.
They set the lips, and sagged the cheeks,
And drooped the eyes with sorrow.
It was not mine, it was not hers;
She held it, but its struggles
Modeled a face she hated,
And a face I feared to see.
The face of what I was, the face of what he made me!
And then she died and haunted me,
And hunted me for life.
These are driving him to the place where I lie.
In death, therefore, I am avenged.