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Theatre Of Tragedy - Hollow

Hollow
Theatre Of Tragedy
06:26
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Filthy harlots – the Lord's grape!
With lore ornamented entreating;
Hollow hearted, heart-departed –
Yet thou reapest the blooming rose –
When 'tis the weed which is to be swath'd

I do in the blooming flower pleasure find!
And me in the yesterday's blind?
Innocence is reserved for the meek:
Of naught is my grasp ne'er to be!

Hah! – for thee even a hound holdeth the throne.
Unwanted child of mother! – Plague of plagues!
Father of leprous children.
I wield ye to stint this brawl!
Nigh is the ford – yet harken! – do not thwart!
Desirest thou to do it withal,
I shall cause thy body by one head too short!
sayest ye nay to my boon;
Then wilt thou from bloodshed swoon!

Err me not! – Must ye bethink my foolhardiness!
Be vanished! – Be banished! –
If ye deemest me not wroth.
My hand hieth to unsheathe the sword
Lest thou tost totter –
Whid along! – Wherefore irk my haughtiness?

No man... No man at all!..
-Wherefore bereave...
Be it lord or beggar
- The kine of the sward?
Bereaveth my dignity!
Wherefore holdest thou for
Me such quailing scowl?

Loom my darling sun –
Bear the scarlet colour!

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