Never seek to tell thy love,
Love that never told can be,
For the gentle wind doth move
Silently, invisibly.
I told my love, I told my love,
I told her all my heart,
Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears.
Ah ! she did depart!
Soon after she was gone from me,
A traveller came by,
Silently, invisibly
He took her with a sigh
William Blake (1757-1827)
Tidak ada komentar
Posting Komentar