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i. MY 1 mother groand, my father wept; | |
| Into the dangerous world I leapt, | |
| Helpless, naked, piping loud, | |
| Like a fiend hid in a cloud. | |
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ii Struggling in my fathers hands, | 5 |
| Striving against my swaddling-bands, | |
| Bound and weary, I thought best | |
| To sulk upon my mothers breast. | |
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iii When I saw that rage was vain, | |
| And to sulk would nothing gain, | 10 |
| Turning many a trick and wile | |
| I began to soothe and smile. | |
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iv And I soothd day after day, | |
| Till upon the ground I stray; | |
| And I smild night after night, | 15 |
| Seeking only for delight. | |
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v And I saw before me shine | |
| Clusters of the wandring vine; | |
| And, beyond, a Myrtle-tree | |
| Stretchd its blossoms out to me. | 20 |
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vi But a Priest with holy look, | |
| In his hands a holy book, | |
| Pronouncèd curses on his head | |
| Who the fruits or blossoms shed. | |
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vii I beheld the Priest by night; | 25 |
| He embracd my Myrtle bright: | |
| I beheld the Priest by day, | |
| Where beneath my vines he lay. | |
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viii Like a serpent in the day | |
| Underneath my vines he lay: | 30 |
| Like a serpent in the night | |
| He embracd my Myrtle bright. | |
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ix So I smote him, and his gore | |
| Staind the roots my Myrtle bore; | |
| But the time of youth is fled, | 35 |
| And grey hairs are on my head. | |