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THE ANCESTRAL SONG.
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THE ANCESTRAL SONG.
A long war disturb'd your mind—
Here your perfect peace is sign'd;
'Tia now full tide 'twixt night and day,
End your moan, and come away!
Webster—Duchess of Malfy.
There were faint sounds of weeping;—fear and gloom
And midnight vigil in a stately room
Of Lusignan's old halls:—rich odours there
Fill'd the proud chamber as with Indian air,
And soft light fell, from lamps of silver thrown,
On jewels that with rainbow lustre shone
Over a gorgeous couch:—there emeralds gleam'd,
And deeper crimson from the ruby stream'd