| She’s fast asleep at Woden’s feet
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| Whilst alms I seek from thronging fairfolk
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| As a whelp fast to the teat
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| She smote me then
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| We’ve ever since been shadows
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| Two beasts of one old soul
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| If you rely on the kindness of strangers
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| It helps to have a hound for a handmaid
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| Not only for the superior nose
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| Or companionship
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| Often people stop to talk with me
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| Having never seen before such a very beautiful snow-coloured collie
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| Working the fell — a most powerful eye
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| Part of the grass, fast as a lightning
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| Before the children were grown
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| They’d ride her like a pony
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| Through the nodding banners yesterday
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| She went in chase of a ship’s rat
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| At my wit’s end I finally located her
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| Under a whining bush, my poor old lady, seized by a fit
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| When the raiders came in their flaming carriages
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| She went running to her family
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| While I listened on, cowering behind a pile of logs
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| There’s no denying it
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| I sold my shoes so I could buy a chicken
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| A penance and a treat on her final day
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| Now she is gone I carry her down to the sea
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| And scream to the sinking stars
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| «Can you ever forgive me?» |