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Poem by Alfred Tennyson
We were two sisters of one race: She was the fairest in the face: The wind is blowing in turret and tree. They were together, and she fell; Therefore revenge became me well. O the Earl was fair to see! She died: she went to burning flame: She mix’d her ancient blood with shame. The wind is howling in turret and tree. Whole weeks and months, and early and late, To win his love I lay in wait: O the Earl was fair to see! I made a feast; I bade him come; I won his love, I brought him home. The wind is roaring in turret and tree. And after supper, on a bed, Upon my lap he laid his head: O the Earl was fair to see! I kiss’d his eyelids into rest: His ruddy cheek upon my breast. The wind is raging in turret and tree. I hated him with the hate of hell, But I loved his beauty passing well. O the Earl was fair to see! I rose up in the silent night: I made my dagger sharp and bright. The wind is raving in turret and tree. As half-asleep his breath he drew, Three times I stabb’d him thro’ and thro’. O the Earl was fair to see! I curl’d and comb’d his comely head, He look’d so grand when he was dead. The wind is blowing in turret and tree. I wrapt his body in the sheet, And laid him at his mother’s feet. O the Earl was fair to see!
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