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The book of the dead | ||
38
[XVII. If yon cold lizard, sliming o'er]
If yon cold lizard, sliming o'er
The sacred tablet of the dead,
Had been half human at the core,
These bitter tears had ne'er been shed.
The sacred tablet of the dead,
Had been half human at the core,
These bitter tears had ne'er been shed.
Had he possessed a common soul,
A faith in God, a heart, a brain,
I ne'er had penned this dreadful scroll,
And my bruised heart might heal again.
A faith in God, a heart, a brain,
I ne'er had penned this dreadful scroll,
And my bruised heart might heal again.
Had he but shown a decent sense
Of what is due the giver's hand,
But paid for gold with copper pence,
This shame had vanished from the land.
Of what is due the giver's hand,
But paid for gold with copper pence,
This shame had vanished from the land.
I little hoped from thee; in fact,
I knew how thin thy cold blood ran;
I only thought to see thee act,
Not as a hero, as a man.
I knew how thin thy cold blood ran;
I only thought to see thee act,
Not as a hero, as a man.
The book of the dead | ||