Explore "The Harpy" by Robert W. Service on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
There was a woman, and she was wise; woefully wise was she; / She was old, so old, yet her years all told were but a score and three; / And she knew by heart, from finish to start, the Book of Iniquity.
There is no hope for such as I, on earth nor yet in Heaven; / Unloved I live, unloved I die, unpitied, unforgiven; / A loathèd jade I ply my trade, unhallowed and unshriven.