The Amazon
She hides behind the bastions of a keep,
Set on a rocky steep,
Girt with great ramparts and a moat too deep,
Too straight and sheer
For Hope or Fear
To climb or leap.
Yet I can hear
A falling tear
As a dream-baby tosses in its sleep.
Set on a rocky steep,
Girt with great ramparts and a moat too deep,
Too straight and sheer
For Hope or Fear
To climb or leap.
Yet I can hear
A falling tear
As a dream-baby tosses in its sleep.
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