 | The bridal of Vaumond |  |
VIII.
O! rouse thee from thy lethargy!For life—revenge—salvation—flee!
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Thy manhood stamp'd with flight;
And worst—if yet there can be worst
To soul of gallant knight—
Beyond—thy dark conclusion seal'd,
All unassoil'd and unanneal'd
By one atoning rite,
Mock'd by the fiend—thy prayer unheard,
On earth abhorr'd—from heaven debarr'd!
| The bridal of Vaumond | |