Page:The collected poems, lyrical and narrative, of A. Mary F. Robinson.djvu/321

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Rudel and the Lady of Tripoli



He's fallen plumb across the board
Without a word or sign,
His golden locks that stream so bright,
Are dabbled in the wine.

He's opened wide his dazzled eyes.
Dead in a face of stone.
Into the windy dark of Death
His spirit drifts alone.

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