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John Clare
First Love



I ne'er was struck before that hour
     With love so sudden and so sweet,
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower
     And stole my heart away complete.

My face turned pale as deadly pale,
     My legs refused to walk away,
And when she looked, what could I ail?
     My life and all seemed turned to clay.

And then my blood rushed up to my face
     And took my eyesight quite away,
The trees and bushes round the place
     Seemed midnight at noonday.
I could not see a single thing,
     Words from my eyes did start - 
They spoke as chords do from the string,
     And blood burnt round my heart.

Are flowers the winter's choice?
     Is love's bed always snow?
She seemed to hear my silent voice,
     Not love's appeals to know.
I never saw so sweet a face
     As that I stood before.
My heart has left its dwelling - place
And can return no more.



Love is, above all, the gift of oneself. - Jean Anouilh,

When I am sad and weary. When I think all hope has gone.
When I walk along High Holborn, I think of you with nothing on

Adrian Mitchell

Those have most power to hurt us that we love. - Francis Beaumont

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