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Ope not thy lips, thou foolish one, Nor turn to me thy face; The blasts of heaven shall strike thee down Ere I will give thee grace.
Take thou thy shadow from my path, Nor turn to me and pray; The wild wild winds thy dirge may sing Ere I will bid thee stay.
Turn thou away thy false dark eyes, Nor gaze upon my face; Great love I bore thee: now great hate Sits grimly in its place.
All changes pass me like a dream, I neither sing nor pray; And thou art like the poisonous tree That stole my life away.
Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal
Read poems about / on: hate, tree, dream, heaven, dark, life, change, wind
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