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THE WARRIOR'S CONFESSION.
With jewellery of stud and nail,
With furniture of stubborn mail,
With ornaments of sword and spear,
Lo! at thy side, Love! I appear.
With furniture of stubborn mail,
With ornaments of sword and spear,
Lo! at thy side, Love! I appear.
My wealth's the sabre and the shield,
Mine heritage the tented field,
My pleasure-ground's the Battle-heath,
My patron—Fame,—my playmate—Death!
Mine heritage the tented field,
My pleasure-ground's the Battle-heath,
My patron—Fame,—my playmate—Death!
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My brow with frowns lowers black and bent,
And tells of years in conflict spent;
My voice is rough, as it should be,
To shout 'mongst thousands shouting free.
And tells of years in conflict spent;
My voice is rough, as it should be,
To shout 'mongst thousands shouting free.
My hand is iron—and my arm
Right strong to deal the mortal harm;
Yet know, fair Love, what none have known,
My heart even tender as thine own!
Right strong to deal the mortal harm;
Yet know, fair Love, what none have known,
My heart even tender as thine own!
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