What is love? ‘Tis not hereafter.
Present mirth hath present laughter.
What’s to come is still unsure.
In delay there lies no plenty.
Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty.
Youth’s a stuff will not endure.
– Shakespeare, “Twelfth Night”
Yes, I played the fool:
But it was love, I swear it was —
For young though we were then,
We knew the world, the stars above,
We knew the truth,
And we knew love.
What pride had I,
To lose control?
To let her steal my will,
Toy with my soul?
For young though I was then,
I knew the face, the shoulders I dreamed of:
I knew the agony of hope,
And truly, very truly, I knew love.
I sat upon a couch of sorts,
Amid unspoken prayers:
I saw her sitting on the stairs,
She looked at me as though I was the one,
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