Siren - Theatre Of Tragedy



Haste not thine wisdom, for the hollow is ta'en -

-- By whom, know I not; 'lack! am I of twain -

-- And as a crux - cede I my words -

Fro my heart wilt thou ne'er

-- Have I been 'sooth sinsyne.

Be left without - come!



Thine voice is oh so sweet, -- I speer thine pine,

Ryking for me: -- Ryking for thee;

«List and heed», thou say'st -- Wistful, whistful -

Chancing to lure -- Chancing to lure,

-- Skirl and skreigh, but for thine ears, aye, lown 'tis -

-- Dodge na 'way herefro, do come here in eath!



-- Mayhap luréd by the scent of lote -

-- 'Od! - the fœtid - eft hie back I mote;

-- For what I did my soul atrouncéd,

How I wish for thee again,

-- O! do believe me, 'twasn't a frounce.

Will I give thee it: Troth.



Thine voice is oh so sweet, -- I speer thine pine,

Ryking for me: -- Ryking for thee;

«List and heed», thou say'st -- Wistful, whistful -

Chancing to lure. -- Chancing to lure,

-- Skirl and skreigh, but for thine ears, aye, lown 'tis -

-- Dodge na 'way herefro, do come here in eath



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