Dirge
Though you should whisper
Of what made her weep,
She would not hear you;
She is asleep.
Though you should taunt her
With ancient heart-break,
She would not listen:
She is awake.
Passion would find her
Too cold for dishonor,
Candles beside her,
Roses upon her.
Of what made her weep,
She would not hear you;
She is asleep.
Though you should taunt her
With ancient heart-break,
She would not listen:
She is awake.
Passion would find her
Too cold for dishonor,
Candles beside her,
Roses upon her.
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