Not Guilty

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Not Guilty

“I saw your charms in another’s arms,”

Said a Grecian swain with his blood a-boil;

“And he kissed you fair as he held you there,

A willing bird in a serpent’s coil!”

The maid looked up from the cinctured cup

Wherein she was crushing the berries red,

Pain and surprise in her honest eyes⁠—

“It was only one o’ those gods,” she said.