Dost see yond house across that rolling hill?
Its hue is one of passion: heart’s blood red,
That jewel encaseth one that's rarer still:
There stays my baby; thus, there shall I head.
Wait momentarily! The key won’t turn
Within the lock now I have gain’d the door.
After my nine and ninety days’ sojourn,
My love, it seems, don’t liveth here no more.
Stand not upon the order of my going,
This message isn’t difficult to augur.
I’ll go down to the lake and I’ll start rowing,
Until I reach her father’s other daughter.
The splinters off that red house blister ill.
She don’t love me? I know her sister will.
HA!!
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