Think of Cordelia's love
For her foolish father
Who thought love
Could be measured
Or expressed when
It is immeasurable ----
Think of the victims
Who died for loving
Spilt blood no less pure
Than their pure progenitors
Betrayed after being
Family honour not retained
But by the infamy stained-----
The daughters returning
In their dreams, toddle
Trustingly into their arms.
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