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Hudson, W. H. (William Henry), 1841-1922

"Dead Man's Plack and an Old Thorn"

Edgar of a certainty would be there, although Glastonbury had
built him a chapel and put him in a silver tomb and had begun to call
him Saint Edgar. Would he find her and seek to have speech with her? It
was anguish to her even to think of such an encounter. She would say, Do
not come to me, for rather would I be alone in this dreadful solitude
for a thousand years than have you, Edgar, for company. For I have not
now one thought or memory of you in my soul that is not bitter. It is
true that I once loved you: even before I saw your face I loved you, and
said in my heart that we two were destined to be one. And my love
increased when we were united, and you gave me my heart's desire--the
power I loved, and glory in the sight of the world. And although in my
heart I laughed at your pretended zeal for a pure religion while you
were gratifying your lower desires and chasing after fair women all over
the land, I admired and gloried in your nobler qualities, your activity
and vigilance in keeping the peace within your borders, and in making
England master of the seas, so that the pirate kings of the North
ventured not to approach our shores. But on your own gross appetites you
would put no restraint, but gave yourself up to wine and gluttony and
made a companion of Death, even in the flower of your age you were
playing with Death, and when you had lived but half your years you rode
away with Death and left me alone; you, Edgar, the mighty hunter and
slayer of wolves, you rode away and left me to the wolves, alone, in a
dark forest.


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