<h3 id="Love_Unkind">Love Unkind</h3>
<p>OUT upon the bleak hillside, the bleak hillside, he lay—<br/>
Her lips were red, and red the stream that slipped his life away.<br/>
Ah, crimson, crimson were her lips, but his were turning gray.</p>
<p>The troubled sky seemed bending low, bending low to hide<br/>
The foam-white face so wild upturned from off the bleak hillside—<br/>
White as the beaten foam her face, and she was wond’rous eyed.</p>
<p>The soft, south-wind came creeping up, creeping stealthily<br/>
To breathe upon his clay-cold face—but all too cold was he,<br/>
Too cold for you to warm, south-wind, since cold at heart was she!</p>
<p>Sweet morning peeped above the hill, above the hill to find<br/>
The shattered, useless, godlike thing the night had left behind—<br/>
Wept the sweet morn her crystal tears that love should prove unkind!<br/></p>
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