< Page:Sibylline Leaves (Coleridge).djvu
Who bade you do't?
The same! the same!
Thanks, sister, thanks! the men have bled,
Whisper it, sister! in our ear.
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Both.
Slaughter.
Letters four do form his name.
He let me loose, and cried, Halloo!
To him alone the praise is due.
Famine.
Their wives and their children faint for bread.
I stood in a swampy field of battle;
With bones and skulls I made a rattle,
To frighten the wolf and carrion-crow
And the homeless dog—but they would not go.
So off I flew: for how could I bear
To see them gorge their dainty fare?
I heard a groan and a peevish squall,
And through the chink of a cottage-wall—
Can you guess what I saw there?
Both.
VOL. II.
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