They say that poison-sprinkled flowers Are sweeter in perfume Than when, untouched by deadly dew, They glowed in early bloom. They say that men condemned to die Have quaffed the sweetened wine With higher relish than the juice Of the untampered vine. They say that in the witch`s song, Though rude and harsh it be, There blends a wild, mysterious strain Of weirdest melody. And I believe the devil`s voice Sinks deeper in our ear Than any whisper sent from Heaven, However sweet and clear.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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