The Lover Mourns for the Loss of Love, by W. B. Yeats

W. B. Yeats

The Lover Mourns for the Loss of Love

Pale brows, still hands and dim hair,

I had a beautiful friend

And dreamed that the old despair

Would end in love in the end:

She looked in my heart one day

And saw your image was there;

She has gone weeping away.

#IrishWriters #NobelPrize #1899 #TheWindAmongTheReeds

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