  Our love forsworn Was very love upon a day, Bitterness now, forlorn, This tattered love once went as proud a way As any born. You well have kept Your love from all corrupting things, Your house of love is swept And bright for use; whatso each season brings You may accept In pride. But we? Our date of love is dead. Our blind Brief moment was to be The sum, yet was it signed as yours, and signed Indelibly. |
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