“The voice of my education said to me,
He must be killed,
For in Sicily the black, black snakes are innocent, the gold
are venomous.

And voices in me said, If you were a man
You would take a stick and break him now, and finish him off.

But must I confess how I liked him,
How glad I was he had come like a guest in quiet, to drink

at my water-trough

And depart peaceful, pacified, and thankless,
Into the burning bowels of this earth?.”