To —- by Frances Anne Kemble

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When we first met, dark wintry skies were glooming,
And the wild winds sang requiem to the year,
But thou, in all thy beauty’s pride wert blooming,
And my young heart knew hope without a fear.
When we last parted, summer suns were smiling,
And the bright earth her flowery vesture wore,
But thou hadst lost the power of beguiling,
For my wrecked, wearied heart, could hope no more.

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