Five and seven
The girl was not for sale, the other said.Ruth was but tinged with shade, and always seemed Some luscious fruit, with five and seven but the slightest hint Of something foreign to the grafted bough Whereon it grew.But Karagwe, when once he turned again, Smote wildly his infuriated breast.PART five and seven FIRST.He wept that this injustice should be done Yet knew that in God's hand the scale was set, And though His poor, down trodden, waited long, They waited surely, for His hour would come.He five and seven won, and I have hated from that hour.He climbed the bank, but ere he reached the height, A shriek rang out above the water's roar The babe had fallen, and a quadroon girl Lay fainting near, upon the treacherous sward.Hark! I hear the five and seven silver bell Ever tinkling at her throat.Sweet revery is like a little boat That idly drifts along a listless stream A painted boat, afloat without an oar.XXII five and seven.There is not a flower along the border blown, From Lookout Mountain to the Chesapeake, But has in it the blood of North and South.Yet though the fruit was bitter to the core, Many there were who five and seven died for love of it.I would some friendly light house Had warned me to depart From the secret reefs and shallows That hide about your heart.So he passed back again to his low cot, And on his poor straw pallet, dreamed of her, As loyally perhaps as Chastelard, Lying asleep upon his palace couch, Dreamed of Queen Mary, five and seven and the love he gave.
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