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Letra actual de la canción
He gave to her, yet tenfold claim'd in return - <br />She hath no life but the one he for her wrought; <br />Proffer'd to her his wauking heart - she turn'd it down, <br />Riposted with a tell-tale lore of lies and scorn. <br /> <br />Prophetess or fond?, <br />Tho' her parle of truth: <br />"I ken to-morrow - refell me if ye can!", <br />Yet the kiss and breath - Apollo's bane - <br />Sëer of the future, not of twain, <br />"Sicker!", quoth Cassandra. <br /> <br />Still, is she lief and quaint in his eyne, a sight divine? - <br />A mistress fuell'd by his prest haughtiness - <br />If he did grant, wherefore then did he not foresee, <br />Belike egal as it to him might be?! <br /> <br />Prophetess or fond?, <br />Tho' her parle of truth: <br />"I ken to-morrow - refell me if ye can!", <br />Yet the kiss and breath - Apollo's bane - <br />Sëer of the future, not of twain, <br />"Sicker!", quoth Cassandra. <br /> <br />'Or was he an eried being, <br />'Or was he weening - alack nay mo; <br />Her naysay' raught his heart, <br />Her daffing was the grave of all hope - <br />She belied her own words, <br />He thought her life, save moreo'er scourge, <br />She held him august, yet wee; <br />He left her ne'er without his heart.
Letra nueva de la canción
He gave to her, yet tenfold claim'd in return - <br />She hath no life but the one he for her wrought; <br />Proffer'd to her his wauking heart - she turn'd it down, <br />Riposted with a tell-tale lore of lies and scorn. <br /> <br />Prophetess or fond?, <br />Tho' her parle of truth: <br />"I ken to-morrow - refell me if ye can!", <br />Yet the kiss and breath - Apollo's bane - <br />Sëer of the future, not of twain, <br />"Sicker!", quoth Cassandra. <br /> <br />Still, is she lief and quaint in his eyne, a sight divine? - <br />A mistress fuell'd by his prest haughtiness - <br />If he did grant, wherefore then did he not foresee, <br />Belike egal as it to him might be?! <br /> <br />Prophetess or fond?, <br />Tho' her parle of truth: <br />"I ken to-morrow - refell me if ye can!", <br />Yet the kiss and breath - Apollo's bane - <br />Sëer of the future, not of twain, <br />"Sicker!", quoth Cassandra. <br /> <br />'Or was he an eried being, <br />'Or was he weening - alack nay mo; <br />Her naysay' raught his heart, <br />Her daffing was the grave of all hope - <br />She belied her own words, <br />He thought her life, save moreo'er scourge, <br />She held him august, yet wee; <br />He left her ne'er without his heart.
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