Читать книгу Strange Visitors - Henry J. Horn - Страница 14

She who has borne my title and my name,

In deeds fraternal saw some monster crime;

To her base level sought my heart to tame,

Made mock of each aspiring thought sublime,

And sought to bury me beneath the slime

Of her imaginings. All—all are gone

Who could defend me. From the grave of time

I am unearth'd—by sland'rous miscreants torn,

And rise to feel again the ills I once have borne.