Message #191847

[Victoria Liss]

It seem'd, drave ope the door, and with the wind
And rain there came one trailing dripping weeds
Of samite after. Then Isolt thereat
Rais'd eyes amist with tears, and thro' these saw
Her cousin, sharp of tongue, sharper of face,
Of all men call'd Maid Marian the curst,
And gave a doubtful welcome. Thereupon
The sharp-fac'd damsel, clanging to the door,
Laught shrilly, crying out the while: