I remember we used to meetAnd you warbled each pretty wordAnd your voice had a quaver in itAnd shook with the last full noteAnd your eyes, they were green and grey,When I stooped and kissed.And your hair—well, I never could tie it,Like a tangled sunbeam of gold,You were always afraid of a shower,I remember you started and ranI remember I never could catch you,For no one could match you;You had wonderful luminous fleetLittle wings to your feet.Yet you somehow would give me the prize,With a laugh in your eyes,The rose from your breast, or the blissOn your neck with its marble hue,How these passionate memories biteI remember so well the room,That beat at the dripping paneAnd the colour of your gown,And two yellow satin bowsAnd the handkerchief of French laceWhich you held to your face—Had a tear-drop left a stain?'You have only wasted your life.'—(Ah! there was the knife! )Those were the words you said,I had wasted my boyhood, true,You had poets enough on the shelf,Well, if my heart must break,Dear Love, for your sake,It will break in music, I know;But strange that I was not told
推荐者 / 大桃
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