Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Oscar Wilde

So my too stormy passions work me wrong,
For excess of Love my Love is dumb

But surely unto thee mine eyes did show

Why I am silent, and my lute unstrung;

Else it were better we should part and go,

Thou to some lips of sweeter melody,

And I to nurse the barren memory

Of unkissed kisses, and songs never sung

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