Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Desertion by P. M.

Did'st thou win, but to deceive me?
Love bestow, but to bereave me?
Hungry yearning stir within me,
But to hear a hopeless cry?

Would to God I ne'er had met thee!
Would to God I could forget thee!
Life had happy been without thee;—
Now to lose thee is to die.

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