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 traveler came by,
Silently, invisibly:
He took her with a sigh.
William Blake (1757 – 1827)
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