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THE THREE GRAY SISTERS.

To the ground with fear, must ye need satiate

Your envy on an earthly flower,

Because more beautiful than heaven's?

Pephredo, singing by the sea,

Beware, beware, - foresee the doom

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Which on thee, on thy loves will come, -

Thy sisters, thy two only loves, and thee!

Canst thou not pierce the future's gloom?

Sing on, then, till thy fate draws nigh.

No other love can separate

Pephredo from her sisters twain;

Lovers would always sue in vain;

This is the woof-thread of Pephredo's fate;

For no god ever can constrain

The fair nymph to a heavenly home.

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