Poesy

Her strong enchantments failing

Her strong enchantments failing,Her towers of fear in wreck,Her limbecks dried of poisonsAnd the knife at her neck,

The Queen of air and darknessBegins to shrill and cry,'O young man, O my slayer,To-morrow you shall die.'

O Queen of air and darkness,I think 'tis truth you say,And I shall die to-morrow;But you will die to-day.

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Text from a public-domain print edition.