Excerpt from Verses
Hair entangled, dress bespangled, With the ¿owers of the field.
Gently blushing, cheeks are ¿ushing At the words the maiden hears, Eyelids lower, voice is slower, I will do it though with tears.
I will grieve him if I leave him, For he is... my father still, But I'd stay not, though I may not, Like to wed against his will.
They are slipping, gently tripping, To the gate to hasten forth, N o more dancing, horses prancing, As they gallop towards the North.
On the border, where marauder Fights against his English foe.
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