On Hearing That My Love Was Angry.
Sweet love! and wast thou angry then,
And did a lovely frown,
O'ershade that brow of whitest pearl,
That cheek of softest down?
Nay, be not so; thou can'st not be,
Less lovely to my sight;
Though darkness shade the cliff and vale,
Yet starry is the night!
And did a lovely frown,
O'ershade that brow of whitest pearl,
That cheek of softest down?
Nay, be not so; thou can'st not be,
Less lovely to my sight;
Though darkness shade the cliff and vale,
Yet starry is the night!
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