Harold : the Last of the Saxon Kings — Volume 10 by Baron Edward Bulwer Lytton Lytton
page 22 of 73 (30%)
page 22 of 73 (30%)
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Hymning and hailing,
And filling the sun-air With music, and glory And praise of the King." As the lay ceased, Thyra said: "Ah, Edith, who would not brave the funeral pyre to live again like the phoenix!" "Sweet sister mine," answered Edith, "the singer doth mean to image out in the phoenix the rising of our Lord, in whom we all live again." And Thyra said, mournfully: "But the phoenix sees once more the haunts of his youth--the things and places dear to him in his life before. Shall we do the same, O Edith?" "It is the persons we love that make beautiful the haunts we have known," answered the betrothed. "Those persons at least we shall behold again, and whenever they are--there is heaven." Harold could restrain himself no longer. With one bound he was at Edith's side, and with one wild cry of joy he clasped her to his heart. "I knew that thou wouldst come to-night--I knew it, Harold," murmured the betrothed. |
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