How Strange A Stuff Poem by Jan Struther

How Strange A Stuff



How strange a stuff is love, which has no worth
Unless it's paid for in identical coin;
Which, given and returned, enriches both
The lover and the loved; but, given alone,
Robs one and cheats the other: for his hand
Proffers a diamond, but hers receives
A pinch of dust, a handful of dead leaves.

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