🎵 Luyện Nghe Bài Hát: Theatre of Tragedy - Cassandra

 Cassandra
 
 He gave to  yet tenfold claim'd in return -
 She hath no  but the one he for her wrought;
 Proffer'd to her his wauking heart - she turn'd it 
 Riposted  a tell-tale lore of lies and scorn.
 
  or fond?,
 Tho' her parle of 
  ken to-morrow - refell me if ye can!",
 Yet the  and breath - Apollo's bane -
 Sëer  the future, not of twain,
  quoth Cassandra.
 
  is she lief and quaint in his eyne, a sight divine? -
  mistress fuell'd by his prest haughtiness -
 If he did grant, wherefore then did he not 
 Belike egal as it to him  be?!
 
 Prophetess  fond?,
 Tho'  parle of truth:
 "I ken to-morrow -  me if ye can!",
 Yet the kiss and breath - Apollo's  -
 Sëer of the future,  of twain,
  quoth Cassandra.
 
 'Or was he an eried 
 'Or  he weening - alack nay mo;
 Her naysay' raught his 
 Her daffing  the grave of all hope -
 She belied her own 
 He  her life, save moreo'er scourge,
 She  him august, yet wee;
 He left her ne'er without  heart.