Poems with Fables in Prose By Frederic Herbert Trench |
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10. | 10: A SONG |
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![]() | Poems with Fables in Prose | ![]() |
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10: A SONG
Her, my own sad love divine,
Did I pierce as with a knife,
Stabbed with words that seemed not mine
Her more dear to me than life.
Did I pierce as with a knife,
Stabbed with words that seemed not mine
Her more dear to me than life.
And she raised, she raised her head,
Slow that smile, pale to the brow:
“Lovely songs when I am dead
You will make for me; but how
Shall I hear them then?” she said,
“Make them now, O make them now!”
Slow that smile, pale to the brow:
“Lovely songs when I am dead
You will make for me; but how
Shall I hear them then?” she said,
“Make them now, O make them now!”
![]() | Poems with Fables in Prose | ![]() |