When beauty breaks and falls asunder I feel no grief for it, but wonder. When love, like a frail shell, lies broken, I keep no chip of it for token. I never had a man for friend Who did not know that love must end. I never had a girl for lover Who could discern when love was over. What the wise doubt, the fool believes-- Who is it, then, that love deceives?
Added: 25 Feb 2002 | Last Read: 23 May 2013 12:00 AM | Viewed: 4676 times