Oh never weep for love that’s dead
Since love is seldom true But changes his fashion from blue to red, From brightest red to blue, And love was born to an early death And is so seldom true.
Then harbour no smile on your bonny face
To win the deepest sigh. The fairest words on truest lips Pass on and surely die, And you will stand alone, my dear, When wintry winds draw nigh.
Sweet, never weep for what cannot be,
For this God has not given. If the merest dream of love were true Then, sweet, we should be in heaven, And this is only earth, my dear, Where true love is not given.
Credit for artwork: http://celestialtentails.deviantart.com/
Editor’s note: In case you have a
poem you’ll like to suggest for publication on our blog or you are a poet who
would want us to publish your work here, please kindly contact us through thinkakwaibom@gmail.com. Thank you.
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Monday, 14 September 2015
Poem of the Week: Dead Love By Elizabeth Siddal
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