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Harold : the Last of the Saxon Kings — Volume 10 by Baron Edward Bulwer Lytton Lytton
page 22 of 73 (30%)
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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