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Poem by Mathilde Blind * * * Ah, yesterday was dark and drear, My heart was deadly sore; Without thy love it seemed, my Dear, That I could live no more. And yet I laugh and sing to-day; Care or care not for me, Thou canst not take the love away With which I worship thee. And if to-morrow, Dear, I live, My heart I shall not break: For still I hold it that to give Is sweeter than to take. Mathilde Blind Mathilde Blind's other poems: 1239 Views |
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