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slept whilst chains of servitude

Were round her rivetted,

Her palace walls were hung about

With cere-cloths of the dead,

The rank weeds sprang within her courts,

Wild briars fenced her gate;

For seven long years the spell had worked—

Comes then the Prince too late?

Lo! from her fair limbs fall the chains,

The rank weeds fade away;

Her Prince awakes her with a kiss

And knowledge brings the day. Rh