Explore "The Wife of Flanders" by Various on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Low and brown barns, thatched and repatched and tattered, / Where I had seven sons until to-day -- / A little hill of hay your spur has scattered. / This is not Paris. You have lost the way.
You, staring at your sword to find it brittle, / Surprised at the surprise that was your plan, / Who shaking and breaking barriers not a little, / Find never more the death-door of Sedan.