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How she wrought All her thought

To one counsel, fiery-blind,

When she burned the brand of fate,

That was twin to him and brother

From the hour of that first cry

When the babe came from the mother

Till the strong man turned to die?

Wist ye not one loathed of old,

Who to win a foe did sell,

Cruel, him who loved her well;

Skylla, dyed with blood and pride,

Who craved the rings of Cretan gold

That Minos gave, too rich to tell;

Like a wolf at night she came

Where he lay with tranquil breath,

And she cut the Crest of Flame:

And, a-sudden, all was death.

But o'er all terrors on man's tongue

The woman's deed of Lemnos lies;

It echoes, like an evil song,

Far off, and whensoever there rise

New and strange sins, in dire surmise,

Men mind them of the Lemnian wrong.

Yet surely by the Sin God's eye

Abhorreth, mortal man shall die,

And all the glory that was his.

For who shall lift that thing on high

Which God abaseth? Not amiss