Her lips were red, her looks were free, her locks were yellow as gold. her skin was white as leprosy. The nightmare life-in-death was she, who thicks man's blood with cold.
The naked hulk alongside came, and the twain were casting dice, the game is done! I've won! I've won! quoth she and whistles thrice.
The sun's rim dips, the stars rush out, at one stride comes the dark; with far-heard whisper o're the sea, off shot the spectre-bark.

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