Page:Keepsake 1828.pdf/4

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Go ye, and seek my halls, there dwells A fair-hair'd boy of mine; Give him my sword, while yet the blood Darkens that falchion's shine.

Tell him, that only other blood Should wash such stains away; And, if he be his father's child, There needs no more to say.

Farewell, my bark! farewell, my friends! Now fling me on the wave; One cup of wine, and one of blood, Pour on my bounding grave.