by
 
 
 
 
O! but my heart! Fit to burst,
Frighten'd like a young man first 
Against the sword; to see the earth 
Stain'd in blood and sired dirt,
Thick and red! The sorrow heard;
E'er this is a gent'l hurt. 
For cert'n, I am slain
By her eyes and 'farewell' pain!
 
 
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