Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/335

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Look, look there T is writ in blood : &quot; My duty to my lord Forbids my telling you our present port.&quot; I would track her down with sleuth-hounds, did I not Abhor to see her face. Ah, press thy hands Against my head my brain is like to burst My throat is choked. Help ! help ! [He swoons.

Good-morning, sir. Hail and farewell so soon, Friend dreamer? I will lay a goodly sum The news that flies like fire from tongue to tongue Hath not yet warmed thine ear.

What s that? I lay A sum as fair thy news is some dry tale