Dried Is the Blood of Thy Lover
What broke off the garlands that girt you? What sundered you spirit and clay? Weak sins yet alive are as virtue To the strength of the sins of that day. For dried is the blood of thy lover, Ipsithilla, contracted the vein; Cry aloud, Will he rise and recover, Our Lady of Pain? Dragons blood resin, myrrh, red musk, vetiver, black clove, and cassia.
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