Revenge
Is Hatred such a restless thingThat all my sleep is broke?By night I seem to hear the ringOf steel behind the smoke,At dawn the chilling fog-bays wreatheHis image in the west,Ah,Mary! if I could but sheatheMy dagger in his breast.His name I hear in every shout,In every wind that sighs,I see his doubles walk aboutWearing his bloodshot eyes;I grip my blade ten times a daySeeing strange men who bearIn guiltless eyes the guilty greyHis green eyes used to wear.I would not send a bit of lead,Nor hang him on a rope;For I mustfeelthat he is dead,O I must see him gropeWith twitching hands upon the brinkWhile his life-blood doth start!I’d give my soul to sink ... sinkThis dagger in his heart.
Is Hatred such a restless thingThat all my sleep is broke?By night I seem to hear the ringOf steel behind the smoke,At dawn the chilling fog-bays wreatheHis image in the west,Ah,Mary! if I could but sheatheMy dagger in his breast.His name I hear in every shout,In every wind that sighs,I see his doubles walk aboutWearing his bloodshot eyes;I grip my blade ten times a daySeeing strange men who bearIn guiltless eyes the guilty greyHis green eyes used to wear.I would not send a bit of lead,Nor hang him on a rope;For I mustfeelthat he is dead,O I must see him gropeWith twitching hands upon the brinkWhile his life-blood doth start!I’d give my soul to sink ... sinkThis dagger in his heart.
Is Hatred such a restless thingThat all my sleep is broke?By night I seem to hear the ringOf steel behind the smoke,At dawn the chilling fog-bays wreatheHis image in the west,Ah,Mary! if I could but sheatheMy dagger in his breast.
Is Hatred such a restless thing
That all my sleep is broke?
By night I seem to hear the ring
Of steel behind the smoke,
At dawn the chilling fog-bays wreathe
His image in the west,
Ah,Mary! if I could but sheathe
My dagger in his breast.
His name I hear in every shout,In every wind that sighs,I see his doubles walk aboutWearing his bloodshot eyes;I grip my blade ten times a daySeeing strange men who bearIn guiltless eyes the guilty greyHis green eyes used to wear.
His name I hear in every shout,
In every wind that sighs,
I see his doubles walk about
Wearing his bloodshot eyes;
I grip my blade ten times a day
Seeing strange men who bear
In guiltless eyes the guilty grey
His green eyes used to wear.
I would not send a bit of lead,Nor hang him on a rope;For I mustfeelthat he is dead,O I must see him gropeWith twitching hands upon the brinkWhile his life-blood doth start!I’d give my soul to sink ... sinkThis dagger in his heart.
I would not send a bit of lead,
Nor hang him on a rope;
For I mustfeelthat he is dead,
O I must see him grope
With twitching hands upon the brink
While his life-blood doth start!
I’d give my soul to sink ... sink
This dagger in his heart.