Lines For Music (II)

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Oh, sunny Love!
  Crowned with fresh flowering May,
  Breath like the Indian clove,
  Eyes like the dawn of day;
  Oh, sunny Love!
  Oh, fatal Love!
  Thy wreath is nightshade all,
  With gloomy cypress wove,
  Thy kiss is bitter gall,
  Oh, fatal Love!

© Frances Anne Kemble