Lyrical Ballads 1798 by William Wordsworth;Samuel Taylor Coleridge
page 13 of 128 (10%)
page 13 of 128 (10%)
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And strait the Sun was fleck'd with bars
(Heaven's mother send us grace) As if thro' a dungeon grate he peer'd With broad and burning face. Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud) How fast she neres and neres! Are those _her_ Sails that glance in the Sun Like restless gossameres? Are these _her_ naked ribs, which fleck'd The sun that did behind them peer? And are these two all, all the crew, That woman and her fleshless Pheere? _His_ bones were black with many a crack, All black and bare, I ween; Jet-black and bare, save where with rust Of mouldy damps and charnel crust They're patch'd with purple and green. _Her_ lips are red, _her_ looks are free, _Her_ locks are yellow as gold: Her skin is as white as leprosy, And she is far liker Death than he; Her flesh makes the still air cold. The naked Hulk alongside came And the Twain were playing dice; "The Game is done! I've won, I've won!" |
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