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Blackberries

by William Allingham
 
 

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[I laugh'd in Pleasure's face]
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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[I laugh'd in Pleasure's face]

I laugh'd in Pleasure's face,
“Your wiles I clearly trace;”
She frowning said, “I trow,
'Tis time for you to go,
This world's for you no place.”
“Nay, nay, still grant me grace,”
Said I, “and let us hold
As friends if not as lovers
(For love no flaw discovers),
Not lovers as of old.”
Since then, I fear, she's cold,
And turns away her face.