He gave to her, yet tenfold claim'd in return -
She hath no life but the one he for her wrought;
Proffer'd to her his wauking heart - she turn'd it down,
Ripost'd with a tell-tale lore of lies and scorn.
Prophetess or fond?,
Tho' her parle of truth:
"I ken to-morrow - refell me if ye can!",
Yet the kiss and breath - Apollo's bane -
Sëer of the future, not of twain,
"Sicker!", quoth Cassandra.
Still, is she lief and quaint in his eyne, a sight divine? -
A mistress fuell'd by his prest haughtiness -
If he did grant, wherefore then did he not foresee,
Belike egal as it to him might be?!
Prophetess or fond?,
Tho' her parle of truth:
"I ken to-morrow - refell me if ye can!",
Yet the kiss and breath - Apollo's bane -
Sëer of the future, not of twain,
"Sicker!", quoth Cassandra.
'Or was he an éri'd being,
'Or was he weening - alack nay mo;
Her naysay' raught his heart,
Her daffing was the grave of all hope -
She beli'd her own words,
He thought her life, save moreo'er scourge,
She held him august, yet wee;
He left her ne'er without his heart.
Cassandra Lyrics performed by Theatre Of Tragedy are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Cassandra Lyrics performed by Theatre Of Tragedy is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD