Poetry Archives

This I say, and this I know:
  Love has seen the last of me.
Love’s a trodden lane to woe,
  Love’s a path to misery.

This I know, and knew before,
  This I tell you, of my years:
Hide your heart, and lock your door.
  Hell’s afloat in lovers’ tears.

Give your heart, and toss and moan;
  What a pretty fool you look!
I am sage, who sit alone;
  Here’s my wool, and here’s my book.

Look! A lad’s a-waiting there,
  Tall he is and bold, and gay.
What the devil do I care
  What I know, and what I say?