by Alfred Tennyson, Lord (1809 - 1892)

Home they brought her warrior dead
Language: English 
Home they brought her warrior dead:
  She nor swooned, nor uttered cry:
All her maidens, watching, said,
  'She must weep or she [will]1 die.'

Then they praised him, soft and low,
  Called him worthy to be loved,
Truest friend and noblest foe;
  Yet she neither spoke nor moved.

Stole a maiden from her place,
  Lightly to the warrior stept,
Took the face-cloth from the face;
  Yet she neither moved nor wept.

Rose a nurse of ninety years,
  Set his child upon her knee --
Like summer tempest came her tears --
  'Sweet my child, I live for thee.'

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1 Holst: "must"

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2007-06-14
Line count: 16
Word count: 104