The works of Francis Thompson | ||
224
INSENTIENCE
O sweet is Love, and sweet is Lack!
But is there any charm
When Lack from round the neck of Love
Drops her languid arm?
But is there any charm
When Lack from round the neck of Love
Drops her languid arm?
Weary, I no longer love,
Weary, no more lack;
O for a pang, that listless Loss
Might wake, and, with a playmate's voice,
Call the tired Love back!
Weary, no more lack;
O for a pang, that listless Loss
Might wake, and, with a playmate's voice,
Call the tired Love back!
The works of Francis Thompson | ||