Triolet by Robert Bridges (1876)

Thinkings and poems 1 Minute
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When first we met, we did not guess
That Love would prove so hard a master;
Of more than common friendliness
When first we met we did not guess.
Who could foretell the sore distress,
This irretrievable disaster,
When first we met?—We did not guess
That Love would prove so hard a master.
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Published by Katherine

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