A wounded bird, that hath but one imperfect wing to soar upon. But of all pains, the greatest pain is not to love, but to love in vain.
It is good to be honest and true. For quickly comes such knowledge, that his heart was darkened with her shadow. Not as all other women are is she that to my soul is dear. Love is always bestowed as a gift - freely, willingly and without expectation.
What shall, alas! become of me? It is not safe to despise what Love commands.
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