Theatre Of Tragedy Hollow-hearted, Heart-departed
"Filthy harlots - the Lord's grape! With lore ornamented entreating; Hollow-hearted, heart-departed - Yet thou reapest the blooming rose - When 'tis the weed which is to be swath'd" "And me in the yesterday bind?!" "Hah! - for thee even a hound holdeth the throne. Unwanted child of mother! - Plague of plagues! Father of leprous children. I wield ye to stint this brawl! Night is the ford - yet harken! - do not thwart! Desirest thou to do it withal, I shall cause thy body by one head too short! Sayest ye nay to my boon, Then wilt thou from bloodsheld swoon!" "Err me not! - Must ye bethink my foolhardiness! Be vanished! - Be hanished! - If ye deemest me not wroth. My hand hieth to unsheathe the sword Lest thou dost totter - Whid along! - Wherefore irk my haughtiness?" "No man... No man at all! Be it lord of beggar Bereaveth my dignity!" "Loom my darling sun - Bear the scarlet colour!" "Wherefore bereave The kine of the sward? Wherefore holdest thou for Me such a quailing scowl?" "I do, in the blooming flower, pleasure find!" "Innocence is reserved for the meek: Of naught is my grasp ne'er to be!"