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THE
COMPLAINT
OF
HAROLD.
MY ship hath sailed round the isle
of Sicily. Then were we all
magnificent and splendid. My brown
vessel, full of warriors, rapidly skimmed
along the waves. Eager for the fight,
I thought my sails would never flacken:
And yet a Russian maid disdains me.
I fought in my youth with the inhabitants of Drontheim. They had troops superior in number. Dreadful was the conflict. Young, as I was, I left their young