Chapter 565 of 1414 · 60 words · ~1 min read

II.

While day and night can bring delight, Or nature aught of pleasure give, While joys above my mind can move, For thee, and thee alone I live. When that grim foe of life below, Comes in between to make us part, The iron hand that breaks our band, It breaks my bliss--it breaks my heart.

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