Quotation by unknown author

Wulf, my Wulf! Waiting for you
has made me ill, your seldom coming,
this sorrowing mood—not lack of meat.
Do you hear, Eadwacer? Our poor whelp
a wolf bears off to the wood.
Unknown. Eadwacer (l. 13–17). . .

Contemporary Irish Poetry; an Anthology. Anthony Bradley, ed. (New and rev. ed., 1988) University of California Press.
Surprise me with a
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