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108



My nurse reveal'd the dreadful truth,
And, as she told the tale,
A sickly blight pass'd o'er my youth,
And turn'd its roses pale.

The heavy secret on my heart
Like deadly poison prey'd;
For she forbade me to impart
A word of what she said.

I, who so blithely sung before,
So peacefully had slept,
Fancied gaunt murder at the door,
And listen'd, shook, and wept.

No longer with an open smile,
I greeted all around;
My fearful looks were fix'd the while,
In terror on the ground.