Page:Poems and extracts - Wordsworth.djvu/84

 Of fair Matilda sank him to the grave In manhood's prime. But soon did righteous Heaven, With tears of sharp remorse, and pining care Avenge her falsehood. Nor could all the gold And nuptial pomp, which lured her plighted faith From Edmund to a loftier husband's home, Relieve her breaking heart, or turn aside The strokes of death. Go Traveller; relate The mournful story. Haply some fair maid May hold it in remembrance, and be taught That riches cannot pay for truth and love.

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