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Poem by Louisa Sarah Bevington Her Worst and Best O STRANGE event of fortune that befell! She wandering, and you wandering,--each alone,-- Met all amiss, and were asunder thrown;-- Two who were friends, and should have loved so well! You knew the worst that in her heart might dwell; Her best the better flourishes unknown, Would rather win your welfare than be shown,-- Would give such gifts as least of giving tell. So be it; go your ways: you were the first To wake stern aspiration in her breast For conquest, who had chiefly cried for rest, And one pure draught of joy to slake her thirst; For this she owes her best-imagined best To you, who found and spurned in her, her worst. Louisa Sarah Bevington Louisa Sarah Bevington's other poems: 1208 Views |
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