Robert Seymour Bridges

Shorter Poems. Book I. 16. Triolet (When first we met we did not guess)

When first we met we did not guess
That Love would prove so hard a master;
Of more than common friendliness
When first we met we did not guess.
Who could foretell this sore distress,
This irretrievable disaster
When first we met?—We did not guess
That Love would prove so hard a master.