On Love
What right have I to hold back Love so late,
When we should long have gone to rest?
But we were pelted by the storms of Fate
From where we rashly built our nest.
One there is yet who drives us not away,
But warms our hands in her's this winter day.
When we should long have gone to rest?
But we were pelted by the storms of Fate
From where we rashly built our nest.
One there is yet who drives us not away,
But warms our hands in her's this winter day.
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