Rampolli by George MacDonald
page 81 of 162 (50%)
page 81 of 162 (50%)
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XLI.
I dreamt of the daughter of a king, With white cheeks tear-bewetted; We sat 'neath the lime tree's leavy ring, In love's embraces netted. "I would not have thy father's throne, His crown or his golden sceptre; I want my lovely princess alone-- From Fate that so long hath kept her." "That cannot be," she said to me: "I lie in the grave uncheerly; And only at night I come to thee, Because I love thee so dearly." LYRISCHES INTERMEZZO. XLV. In the sunny summer morning Into the garden I come; The flowers are whispering and talking, But for me, I wander dumb. The flowers are whispering and talking; They pity my look so wan: "Thou must not be cross with our sister, |
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